My writing is supposed to focus on travel, teaching, and Tanners, but the larger theme that keeps emerging is one of connectivity. Today is my Writing Wednesday. My friend, Sarah, and I sit across from each other at Elliott Bay Cafe, flanked by the remnants of my decaf latte, her brimming cup of tea, and the pages upon pages of the memoir that she\’s revising. I\’m supposed to be building up the bare bones of my memoir so that I can someday be in her position, but the idea of connectivity beckons, and with it, my blog.
The couple to my left sit holding hands across the table. His right hand cups her left, while his left hand clicks the laptop keys before him, and her right hand scratches notes with a pen. Dan and I have been connected for six and a half years. With a toddler who wants to be included whenever Mama and Dadda hug, however, I sometimes find that I miss the old days of being one of those couples, the ones who hold hands across a cafe table.
Saturday brought it back.
As we stepped into the entry area of a small storefront on Greenwood Avenue, I brought Dan into a corner of my world to which he hadn’t been privy: yoga.
There we were for a special two-hour class for pregnant women and their partners, offered by my prenatal yoga instructor, Shelly.
Saturday\’s class promised to be a mix of yoga postures, meditation, breathing exercises, and sound work, sprinkled throughout with suggestions we could employ as support during labor.
As we began practice, Shelly suggested that the mamas should sit in front of their partners, leaning into them. She guided us from focusing on our individual breath to synchronizing our breathing. She led us in a meditation, suggesting that we breathe in confidence and certainty, while breathing out fear, anxiety, and doubt. Dan and I share first the couch and then the bed each evening, but it\’s amazing how a different kind of touch can bring about a renewed feeling of connection. I rested my hands on my belly and felt Baby wriggle in the cocoon my body has created. I felt Dan\’s chest rise and fall behind me and knew that the confidence and certainty we were breathing in was not only about bringing Baby into the world, but about our ability to support each other through the journey of labor and beyond.
When I leave prenatal yoga practice, I do so feeling more present in the world and more connected to myself and Baby. On Saturday, the feeling that lingered long after we emerged from the studio into the late afternoon sun was one of being more connected to the essence of us.
To Palimpsest 