I made it to yoga tonight, which I don't normally get to do on a Tuesday evening. Tonight was a different class, and our instructor decided to take us through an entire Ashtanga sequence instead of spending time perfecting certain poses. Just so you know what this means, it means one pose building on another building on another, and constant movement for an hour with really no resting.
Well, that pesky crow pose was one of those we had to get into and I've not been able to master it yet. Except tonight, I made some headway. I was actually able to lean forward and pick one foot up off the floor. I was very wobbly, hence the title of this post. At the top you can see a picture of what a correct crow is supposed to look like.
So, what is the point of me telling you all this? It means that when you start something, you are going to have mental blocks and think that you can never get to the level that you want to be at. It can be intimidating to go to a class like this and see women who are old enough to be your mother doing handstands and back bends. The point is if you keep doing it, eventually you will get there. Weeks ago I couldn't get one foot of the floor.
I guess this ties in to what is going on in our lives right now. We have reached a point with our son where we know that he needs more help than we can give to him right now. It's one of the most difficult things, as parents, to realize that your child needs something and it is beyond your ability to provide it or fix it. Even if it's beyond our control, the point is, it's beyond our control, and that is a nightmare where your own child is concerned. Tomorrow we will take our son to a state hospital where he will be admitted and receive help that might not otherwise be available to him here. My family and close friends view this as a positive thing. I view it as a positive thing. But as a mother, am I okay with taking my baby hours away from me to people I have never met, knowing that I will only get to see him on the weekends? No. I am not okay with this. Everything in me rebels at the thought of it. But I have watched him struggle since he has been home and I know that he is not happy, that in many ways, he is suffering, and I am somewhat alarmed at the changes I see in him. I have never seen him so upset. I have never seen his moods dissolve so quickly into depression and frustration as they have this week. If he can go here, and come out the other side better for it, then who am I, even as his mother, to deny it to him?
I know that there will be some people who look at this situation and question how a mother can do this. I remind myself on a daily basis that my husband and I are not the only ones parenting Logan. He also belongs to God, and He is aware of my son, and He knows, even more than I do, what my son needs, what his joys and fears are, and what is best for him. I cannot go wrong with a partner like that...not in the raising of this child. And I am so thankful that God thought enough of me to entrust me with someone so innocent, so special, and so vulnerable. Logan has been and always will be my greatest teacher in this life. One day at a time.
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