28/12/2025
It’s been over nine months with this little human. I haven’t been posting at all, and I don’t think this will change anytime soon — because honestly, looking at my phone is no longer even remotely interesting when I get to do life with this brand-new person.
But here I am. He’s sleeping, the room is quiet, and inspiration struck me: these days, motherhood to me is yoga embodied.
There is so much I could say about this sentence. So many words wanting to come through. And maybe one day I’ll return to writing and sharing more often. But for now, let me just say this: these days I rarely sit for a complete yoga practice, yet I have never felt this present and this deeply connected to the pulse of life as I do with him by my side.
Motherhood isn’t quiet or contained. It’s messy, repetitive, exhausting, tender. And still — or maybe because of that — it asks of me exactly what the path of yoga has always asked: to stay, and to meet reality as it is. There is no space for distraction here. No stepping out of the moment.
The usual loops of thought — planning, narrating — are constantly interrupted by what is needed NOW. The mind doesn’t get to wander far before being called back. Presence is required in my arms, in my breath, in how I listen and respond. In the middle of the night. In the middle of the same task, again and again.
This is not a practice I step onto a mat for. This is a practice that meets me wherever I am. A living, breathing sadhana — woven into feeding, holding, laughing, playing, soothing, watching, waiting.
That's my yoga these days 🌀
Sending you a lot of love as this year wraps up ✨
