The Long Practice - Part 1: What we practice, they watch.
Three lessons from my 70-year-old dad’s journey with yoga.
My dad is 70 years old, and for the past decade, he’s practiced yoga religiously.
When I think about his return to yoga, three lessons have surfaced for me. These lessons seem to have very little to do with just practicing yoga, and everything to do with how we care for ourselves, build a life, and keep coming back.
The first lesson: What we practice, they watch.
We hear versions of this all the time: put your own oxygen mask on first. You can’t give what you don’t have. You can’t pour from an empty cup.
We hear these things, and yet, especially as busy parents and professionals, it can be hard to fully believe them, much less embody them. Especially in our modern age, where mom-guilt runs rampant and self-care has become both commodified and commercialized, putting yourself first, much less putting yourself on the list at all, can feel deeply uncomfortable.
Let’s look at my dad as a case study in keeping his cup full. When my dad retired a decade ago, upon my encouragement, he revived his yoga practice as part of his retirement plan. Nowadays, he starts his day with a series of asanas followed by a seated meditation. He practices in-studio four days a week, on top of his morning routine.
When he visits my family, this routine ebbs and flows with the rhythms of being in a house with two little kids. The meditation might not happen first thing in the morning. The in-studio practices move online. But his yoga mat is always in his suitcase. Always.
And while I could talk about the physical benefits of maintaining a movement practice as we age, what strikes me most is what his practice has taught me about what we model for our children. I was watching my dad throughout my childhood. And surprise, surprise, my dad was watching his parents. My grandparents went to the weight room, swimming and went dancing together into their early 90s. Movement wasn't something they suddenly decided they needed to do when they got older. It was simply part of how they lived.
You’ve heard of generational wealth? This is generational health, in action, and it’s just as important.
As I inch closer and closer to 40, I’m realizing that it isn’t just okay for me to protect time for myself and my body. It’s important that I do. Our children are watching us. They are watching what we make time for. What we prioritize. What we consider worthy of protecting. They are learning, long before we explain it to them, what it means to care for ourselves.
Letting our children see us caring for ourselves and our bodies is as important as the act of care itself.
So I say, put your body on the schedule. Protect that time as you would your child’s dance class. Go for the walk. Play pickleball. Play soccer. Move in whatever way makes you feel like yourself. What we practice, they watch. And perhaps, one day, they’ll carry some of it with them.
Stay tuned for the second lesson: the power of routine.