April 13, 2016

Yoga & my Snow Globe.

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Before dawn, when everyone is asleep, the snow is settled beautifully on my little globe world.

My adorable children are dreaming in their beds, my handsome husband lies peacefully next to me and the cutest dog in the world is nestled at my feet. There are no deadlines, no dust bunnies, no grudges and no love handles. My globe world is just perfect.

Then we wake up. The earth begins to shake.

A tantrum is thrown because the underwear I laid out for Child #1 does not have Spiderman on them. He lets me know he no longer loves me because of this. Child #2 has learned to crawl and he is…somewhere. Dammit. The dog has decided he no longer needs to go all the way outside to relieve himself. I realize this as I’m standing in a puddle, packing a lunch that Child #1 reminds me he has no intention of touching.

My husband comes through and tells me my hair is more gray than yesterday. I am thinking of all the painful ways I can kill him when my phone is going crazy. My boss. Six emails already. My mother, the neighbor, the day care worker and gas station attendant have all let me know I have somehow let them down. It’s 7:30 a.m.

It is a sh*t storm in my snow globe.

The countdown begins: 9.5 hours until an appropriate time to pour a glass of wine.

Fire up the laptop. I work from home so I get to look awful all the time while also losing touch with social norms, often coming across like Jodie Foster’s character in the movie Nell.

Three deadlines today. I can do this. Coffee. Switch the laundry over. Conference call. That draft was sent back. Start over. Coffee. Look for gray hairs. Make a hair appointment. The dog needs to go out. Where was I? I missed a call. Sh*t. Emails are piling up again. Coffee.

My snow globe is starting to resemble an avalanche. Three more hours until those couple glasses of wine.

Take a break. Do some push ups. Eight…yep, that’s good. Empty the dishwasher. Put the laundry away. Get back at it. I can do this. Just a little over an hour until I can drink that bottle of wine.

I pause. There is a 4:00 hot yoga class at the studio. If I leave right now I can make it.

Ah, child’s pose.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I can start to see through the whiteout of my globe.

We go through sun salutations, balance, pigeons and, finally, savasana. Am I crying? At least I’m at yoga and not crying in the grocery store line again. There are no expectations in yoga, which is a huge relief. During my practice I am not letting anybody down. I’m not missing a deadline, I am not 20 pounds overweight and I am not a bad mother. I’m just me. I’m just breathing in and out. Sometimes I stand on my hands and feel pride. Sometimes I fall down and laugh.

In my yoga practice the snow settles in my globe. The world becomes calm and beautiful again. What’s so amazing is, I’m awake. This is my life. I’m here and I’m present—and most of all, I’m grateful.


As we wipe down our mats and gather our things, I look around and everyone is smiling. Conversations strike up throughout the room and two friends I’ve made recently give my sweaty body a hug. I squeeze them back.

I roll up my mat and head home, driving right past the store where I usually buy wine.

I walk in the door and my husband has already picked up the boys. I smile at them. My world is so beautiful.





Author: Kristin O’Connell

Editor: Travis May

Photo: Courtesy of Author

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