My Little Yogi

My Katie is a yogi - not the bear - a person who practices yoga.

She has been doing yoga at school on at least a weekly basis since she was three years old thanks to the talents of a great friend of mine named Kim Lynn. Kim is the most amazing yoga instructor ever. For about 6 months, I traveled up to her studio in Salt Lake to take her power yoga class. It completely killed me (I was not made to take my leg and wrap it three times around my waist) but was worth it for the glorious moments of shavasana and the head massage Kim gave me while I was lying in corpse pose (looking very corpse like).

Katie is a big fan of yoga...and she's very good at it. She can do all sorts of poses and can sing 3 of the sanskrit chants. She is also very good at the head massage thing. If I'm lying on the couch, she'll come and massage my head and sing me the chants and it is almost like Kim (even better because I don't have to get all sweaty and stand on my head before I've earned my massage).

The other day I asked Katie what specialists she'd gone to that day and she said yoga.

"How was it?"

"It was so good, Mom. I love yoga because when I get so furious, I can go to yoga and it relaxes me."

"What were you furious about?" I asked, wondering what could prompt an 8-year-old to need to use the word furious.

"Oh, I wasn't furious. I'm just saying that yoga helps me to be calm and happy."

Good, I thought. We can all use a little more "calm and happy."

And I'm glad my little yogi already has the tools she needs to achieve it.