Be Where Your Feet Are...
Everyday Grounding in Motherhood
I used to think mindfulness had to look a certain way (think: cushion, incense, kirtan or silence). A full, intentional practice with a start and finish. Something you do.
Then I became a mom, and mindfulness became something I notice.
It’s less about carving out time, more about dropping into the moments that are already here.
Sure, formal meditation has its place (and I can’t wait to get back to it), but for most moms, especially in the first years, that kind of structure can feel like one more thing to get to. Informal mindfulness, on the other hand, sneaks into the corners of your day. It’s light, doable, often unnoticed. But boy is it powerful.
It’s those little pockets of presence that start to feel like tiny exhale buttons.
It’s feeling the softness of your baby’s cheek against yours, and letting it stop you, even just for a second.
It’s catching a glimpse of sunlight coming through the window and choosing to really look—not just pass it by.
It’s breathing in the scent of your baby’s head, feeling your chest rise, and thinking, I’m here. This is good.
It’s placing both feet on the ground while swaying during a nap, or grounding your hand on the kitchen counter and letting yourself pause before the next thing.
It doesn’t require effort. Just attention.
There’s something really tender about learning to be where your feet are. Not because everything is falling apart, but because everything is unfolding. Slowly, sweetly, and right in front of you.
No pressure to meditate coming from me here. I’m not going to give you gold stars for stillness. This is just an invitation to come back—again and again—to yourself, to this moment, to your life, to where your feet are.
Being where your feet are is a practice. Some days it comes naturally. Other days, it feels like a reach. But even trying (even remembering to try) is the work.
Motherhood offers us endless invitations to check out. But it also offers constant openings to check in. These tiny check-in practices might sound simple or even silly. But they work. They regulate your nervous system. They reconnect you to your body. They remind you you’re still in there—under the spit-up, the mental load, the endless to-do list.