The other day as I walked to yoga in the dark of the super early morning I had this huge breath of clear air, a moment where I realized I have hit this super sweet spot in life (an epiphany if you will). I have hit a personal groove, a perfect balanced happy point between family, work and me time.
Yoga really has been my saving grace, my self esteem booster, my time to myself, the calm start to my days, and the recipe for my physical health – and I could not be more thankful to my family for allowing me to practice as much and as often as I do (and for my husband for pushing me to start practicing again). Recently, I added running into my “me time” mix – 4 weeks down in the C25K app (two thumbs up for this app) and I can’t say I love (or really even like) running, yet (but I feel it should come soon, right!?).
Back to my walk to yoga the other day, in the butt crack of dawn. The same moment I felt like I had reached this moment of total happy wholeness in life. I also sorta began feeling guilty, guilty for taking time for myself, guilty for loving my work life, family life, friend life, and calming/fitness life (though obviously all the same life, they often feel separated by the different hats). At that moment my sweet spot, groove hitting was clouded over with feelings of mom guilt (you know the kind?).
And guilt for what really? For taking time to make myself happy, for keeping my mind sharp and my body healthy, for teaching my kids to work hard at what they enjoy and to work hard at staying fit, healthy and happy? Really as much as I knew it was so ridiculous of me to feel guilty, I am a born over analyzer so I couldn’t get my brain to turn off the guilt. Then this morning, when Harlow and I went on our run (after I cursed myself for running, and wheezed and heaved the entire time). I watched Harlow take “her turn running with the stroller”, seeing how proud she was to be like me and to do something that was “bery bery hard” set me into the proudest mom moment. Proud that the example I am setting by taking time for myself to go to yoga, and sometimes (maybe if I finally start to like it) go for a run, and do the whole working hard at work/blogging/freelancing thing cause I really really do love it – is a strong example for my kids to watch as they grow. And my mom guilt was washed away by proud and happy sweetness (plus sore muscles and sweaty exhaustion).
This post might have turned out to be a bit of a small reminder to myself, to stay on the course of whatever makes me most happy (without any sacrifice to my family, of course). Because a happier me, really does mean a happier family.
*also I would like to add that it is not just me setting the super example for these littles. My hard working husband who works his butt off (half figuratively and half literally) to provide for us, has also starting running again – we are full of super proud wife and kid moments on the daily.
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