There is a daycare right behind my house. I don’t think I fully understood what this meant when we were purchasing our home. I think I was even naive enough to dream of the convenience of having a preschool/daycare behind my house. Because, you know….THREE kids. How could a nearby daycare not be handy?

That dream was misplaced for many reasons, one of which being that it would cost more than my monthly mortgage to send 2 of my 3 little ones there, the second being they have a waiting list that is at least 100 children long. Joy.

So every morning I get to enjoy the view of cars lining up along our side yard to drop their children off at this glamorous preschool/daycare (its ok, its less grass I have to cut…right?!). My dogs bark. The children play and scream all day, Everett gets woken up when the windows are open..it’s great.

We adapted though, I reached a delightful point where the “glamcare” was hardly even noticeable to me anymore. It has been a surprising and welcoming lesson in letting go of comparison and being at peace with what we currently have (asteya). Reaching this point took a significant amount of self-discpline (tapas).

One day, I believe it was my first day of semi freedom (since summer break) because my two oldest were living their best life at zoo camp. Baby E was in a milk coma and snoring away in his crib. I was so excited. It was a BEAUTIFUL summer day, so I had all the windows open, the neighbors chimes were gently chiming to the breeze, I could even hear their lovely water feature. My yoga mat was all set up, and our new floors had been installed in the playroom/yoga room. I was FINALLY about to get an hour or so for uninterrupted yoga and meditation.

I quickly settled into finding my comfortable seat, practiced a bit of pranayama and then began to meditate. I’m counting my breath and then……that unmistakable noise happens. The sound of 30 kids excitedly rushing out to the playground to also enjoy the beautiful Summer day.

My initial reaction was that of a 90 year old woman living in an apartment, grab a broom to hit the ceiling with, while yelling “keep it down”. The less elderly part of me thought I should jump up and quickly close all of the windows and turn on music to drown them out. I was striving. Striving for that peaceful silence I was just experiencing.

But then I remembered tapas (self discipline). The entire purpose of my asana and meditation practices are to be able to stay present and strong in real life. The idea of contentment (Santosha) which is accepting what life brings us with balance, gratitude, and joy. In order to find this contempment, one must battle through the five obstacles of avidya (ignorance), asmita (ego), rāga (attachment to that which feels good), dvesa, (aversion to painful experiences), and their abhiniveśa (fear of death, insecurities).

In that moment, my practice shifted. It became an opportunity to take what I have learned in the blissful setting of a yoga studio, my asanam (happy place) and take it into the real world. Instead of grasping for the bliss I had just experienced, it was up to me to find happiness (sukha) and balance in the new situation I had been given.

So I sat. I closed my eyes again and smiled. I listened without judgement or a desire to control my environment and all of the noises that were filling it. After a bit, the noises faded into the background and I was able to find my breath again. I then enjoyed a challenging yet peaceful asana practice. All the while the children were in the background, reminding me to smile and thank the universe for the lessons I was being given.