It’s not always easy to squeeze in a daily yoga session while travelling, let alone find a discreet patch for the mat. The ideal of course is the privacy of your own room, apparently, even when you are sharing with your five-year-old nephew.
A parent & grandparent (in need of a break) has treated our family to a couple of nights away at a beautiful hotel and spa in rural Wiltshire: a post-Easter shindig with a five-year-old and a seven-year-old, their parents, and me the aunt / budding children’s yoga teacher. The only conditions: I am in sole charge of the nephews while their parents enjoy a much-needed spa treatment, I share a room with one of the nephews, and the multitude of chocolate Easter eggs remain in the car for the duration of our stay.
The Easter egg condition was a tough one. My sister knows how much I love them, having succeeded in selling all of hers to me at the high price of all my pocket money in our childhood, but I took it on the chin along with my roommate. I could see melted chocolate wouldn’t work so well in these rooms. The hotel bedlinen was undeniably crisp and white, the wealth of bathroom towels luxuriously fluffy (also white) and the room an elegant shade of Farrow & Ball’s Slipper Satin. This colour palette was not asking for further decoration and especially not in chocolate.
First of all we had to establish who was sharing my room. It was a hard choice, though ultimately, probably not one I would be making.
Five-year-old stays up late but loves a lie in, and Seven-year-old crashes early but also rises early. Very early. Over tea and scones, I was amused to have two boys arguing over who would share my room, then swiftly grasped it would come down to he who was best behaved. What good training on the part of their parents.. a good steer for later life. Good behaviour gets the girl, or rather doesn’t have to stay with the parents.
The compromise was Five-year-old first night, Seven-year-old second night. Very fair all round. On hearing the news, Five-year-old started to move his few travel possessions into my room: pyjamas, toothbrush, toothpaste and slippers. Given he had less to unpack, not to mention no ridiculous adult notion of putting things in their place (for one night only), he had time to spare before we headed down to dinner. He picked up my yoga mat and asked if he could borrow it.
“Of course!” I said, delighted. I helped him roll it out along the small corridor in the room and left him to it.
I turned around to busy myself with the ridiculous notion of putting my things in their place and when I turned back to check on Five-year-old, I was astounded.
This little person had plonked himself down in the middle of the mat, crossed his legs and held his hands slightly aloft of his knees, his fingers in chin mudra and eyes peacefully closed. He looked so calm, so content and so much in his own space, like nothing else around him mattered in that moment. I was in awe. How did he know to do that and to do it so serenely. He was like a little Buddha. A young yogi.
It made me think. Children act far more intuitively and instinctively than adults. As we grow, we become increasingly aware of others. A good thing on the one hand otherwise we’d all be in utter chaos, but also sometimes a shame, because we can lose our ability to connect with ourselves. As we become more aware, we can act less from a place of intuition and more in accordance with expectations of society, or those around us or worse, imagined expectations, which can be to the detriment of ourselves and our happiness.
If grabbing a mat and plonking yourself down in silence, sukhasana (crossed legs) and chin mudra is what today’s children are seeking out themselves, with no push or encouragement from adults, surely that’s what they know they need. Well we all need.. we’ve just forgotten because of all the noise and occasional ridiculous notions we surround ourselves with.
I am therefore very grateful to Five-year-old for reminding me to pause, roll out the mat, plonk myself down and meditate.
