By Sukh Aman Kaur
Here is what yoga looks like with my 18 month old son:
I usually cover my head with a scarf and sit on my sheep skin, which is located in the middle of our living room. This is usually a sign to him that I will be doing yoga and sometimes he starts the opening chant before I do. He usually joins in with me by chanting his version of Ong Namo Guru Dev Namo, which sounds a little like, "Omo Omo Omo." Sometimes he crawls into my lap and we tune in together. This is my favorite.
Then I begin the kriya, or yoga set. This usually chills him out, even though he isn't really doing the yoga with me, he is doing it with me. He is listening, watching, observing, absorbing. And as I settle in, he settles in.
He tries to imitate my movements or grabs on and crawls under and over my bending body. Sometimes he gets impatient and doesn't let me finish and I call on the gurus to finish it for us. But sometimes, like today, we do the whole kriya. And that my friends, feels like victory!
By the end, he's usually ready to nurse. He's so relaxed (and so am I) that he just wants to soak in the energy, literally ingesting it. So our deep relaxation is nursing and holding and snuggling. He falls asleep; I hold him for a while, then put him down for his nap and type this note.
Not all yoga sessions are like this, of course, some days are more of a juggling act, but I know that somewhere deep inside us both, we will remember that we did this together. Maybe he will call on yoga to balance his own life one day.
For now, I relish our sessions together, as they are perfectly imperfect. Just like the movies don't necessarily reflect real life, the yoga of our minds or media is not always our experience.
Doing long deep breathing while your 2 year old and 4 year old scream for a snack? That's yoga. Pausing before responding to your partner? That's yoga. Allowing the person with only 3 items to go in front of you in the grocery line? That's yoga. Staying neutral when hearing disappointing news? That's yoga.
So I hope to sit today—on a mat, on a sheepskin, on the grass—and connect with my highest self. I don't need an hour, I don't need a flexible body, I don't need perfect quiet. I just need me and the Infinite and an attempt to connect the two.
May the Long Time Sun shine upon you, all Love surround you and the Pure Light within you guide your way on. Sat Nam.
Teaching comes naturally to Sukh Aman Kaur. A former public school teacher, she knew she wanted to transition from being a student of Kundalini Yoga to sharing the teachings with others. “It sounds cliché, but Kundalini Yoga changed my life. It caused me to take a look at myself, and revealed to me the possibility of living more deeply, more consciously, more authentically.”
From the first class she took back in 2003, she was hooked. “I knew it was the right path for me. It felt strangely familiar. I felt at home.” She became a Certified Kundalini Yoga Instructor in 2009. She studied at the Baba Siri Chand Ashram in Millis, MA.
As a way of deepening her practice, she received her spiritual name. Sukh Aman Kaur means Princess of peace, who brings peace to others. “It is both our challenge and our destiny to live by our spiritual name. It is used as often as possible to remind us of our Truth.”
She enjoys practicing yoga with students of all levels and ages, ranging from her toddler to a class of retirees. Her classes are filled with humor, compassion, and challenge. Her belief is that yoga and meditation brings stillness so that our inner wisdom can be heard, allowing us to react to our outside world from an informed place of peace.