Sarah Schermerhorn’s practice shifts with motherhood
My commitment to myself and my family in the last 15 months has been to take a class in-studio at least once a week…wild. I can remember a time when I used to take countless classes.
A time when any empty room felt like a studio. Any bare ocean shoreline was a place to play with inversions, and every hike offered an opportunity to capture a few moments of asana.
It feels like those days are so far away. I think part of that is a natural maturation process. Eventually the beautiful landscapes, and salty open air feel better left untouched.
The other piece of this is that now, the ocean is a lens to watch a toddler play tag with the tides through.
A hike is an opportunity to count the pine cones a curious little girl sneaks out of the woods. And, empty rooms don’t exist. Instead they are filled with books of rhyming words and puff crumbs.
I wouldn’t trade any of this, and more and more often I feel a deep gratitude for these shifts.
Motherhood has taught me so much about adapting.
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I long to be in a studio as a practitioner of yoga. I love teaching, but goodness...do I love to ‘student.’
I’ve been able to learn to adapt to being a student in way that looks different than what I used to know.
I am student at home, in my office, and in-between or before sessions. And, I am a student when I get 10 minutes to myself and choose to use them to move instead using them to be angry that I only have 10 minutes.
This practice is beautiful in that way—it adapts and asks us not to feel guilty when we need it to adapt.
My promise to myself and my family has adapted. Instead of insistence that I need to get into the studio to practice, I just practice.
I think we need this reminder sometimes—the practice doesn’t require a certain amount of time, or a certain place, or specific props—it just asks to practice. And suggests that when we do practice, regardless of the place or the allotted time we have, that we practice wholeheartedly.
See you Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday to practice 🤍