Until I’m 42

From an early age, I remember my dad telling me, “You can’t date until you’re 42.” Being a relatively bright child with a basic understanding of math, I knew this was total bunk and would reply, “But, Daaaaaaad! You’re married and have two kids and you’re not even 42! That’s not fair!”

Fortunately for me (and my future husband and future children), it really was bunk and my parents did not make me wait until I was 42 to date. And actually, this post has nothing to do with dating whatsoever. It has to do with ten years from now (when I will be just one year from that magical, mythical age of 42). I have figured out what I want to be when I grow up and so I have a new goal for (almost) 42 (because if that’s the age when you are finally allowed to date, it’s probably also the age when you might want to have an idea of what you want to do with your life).

I want to be a yoga instructor. It is as simple and as terrifying as that.

Now part of me feels like a love-struck teenager because I am SO over the moon in love with yoga right now and I just started taking classes again after a ten year hiatus. So why the big push/motivation for ten years from now? I don’t know. The classes, the movements, the intentions…they all just speak to my soul. I love it. It lights me up from head to toe, makes me feel every muscle and breath, and the joy that it brings me carries with me after I leave the mat.

Just ask my family.

A week ago, I came home from a class and was shining. I’m not even sure if a pregnant mama’s glow could have outshone me that night, that’s how good I felt. And my kids fed off of it, asking me about the poses I did and wanting me to teach them how to do the same things I had just done at class. And get this – Harrison was so delighted to see my smiling face, he pulled out my chair at the supper table, pulled it right next to his, and then pushed it in for me as I settled down to enjoy a most delicious frozen pizza with them. Does my family care that it was frozen and not homemade because I was at class and not cooking for them? Not in the slightest because better than my pizza (which is damn fine, if you’ve never had it) is my sense of peace, my Zen buzz, after getting my yogi on.

And that’s why I want to do this, even if it is crazy at this point to say so. Why not be crazy? And why not have big dreams? Recently someone posted on facebook a quote that said something along the lines of “If you’re dreams don’t scare you, they probably aren’t big enough” and that is ringing home as captial-T Truth for me tonight. This dream is scary. I have so much to learn. So many muscles to grow. So much to practice before I could ever lead others in this beautiful art, but why not start now with the intention of greatness and sharing with others? Because intentions are one of my favorite parts of the classes I have attended. Stating and restating and focusing through the breath and movement to tell yourself why you are here, why you do what you do. For this reason, it makes sense to start from the very beginning of my journey as a student with the intention of one day being a teacher. I will absorb and learn so much more if I state my intention now and then over and over and over until I reach that magical, mythical place of being able to be it. To do it. And I’m giving myself enough grace and space (i.e. eleven years) to get there.

I can’t hardly wait!

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