"Where are you teaching yoga these days?"
The question seems innocent enough, but since becoming a mom it has sent me into a rambling monologue about every career choice I've made over the past five plus years.
I see the person's eyes glazing over when I'm two sentences in, but I can't stop myself, "Well, I used to teach at YogaWorks. Do you know YogaWorks? I would lead their teacher training all over the world. And I'm a writer. I wrote a book for Shambhala Publications. They're an imprint of Penguin Random House."
It's so important to my ego that I mention the reputable studio and publisher. To allude to my worldliness and reach. I was important once. Popular. Loved.
Usually the person asking is a stranger in a grocery store or friend of a friend at a party. They could care less about my career trajectory and yet I keep talking.
"I was also freelancing, but then I paused that to focus on my online business. I'm trying to create a yoga and meditation space for moms. But I'm stuck in research mode."
I can't stop yammering. I can't simply say, "I've downshifted my career to focus on family life right now." I never had the language before.
The Myth of "It Gets Easier"
People told me it would get easier when my kids were in school, so I've had this expectation that I would be back to producing at the level I was prior to having them. Maybe even more!
I wrote a book while pregnant. I promoted it with a brand new baby. Surely, I can launch a business while also shuttling my kids to two different schools, filling in never-ending waivers, juggling all their days off and keeping my apps organized for the multiple sports they play.
Nope. For "some reason" (some reason?!) the further they get into primary school, the less energy I have to hustle in my career.
I want to build an online business serving moms. I have a clear mission. I want to help moms find mental freedom and reclaim their energy through nervous system nurturing tools and yoga-based practices.
I've had three launches. Two of which made sales. But the third didn’t go as planned and I just find myself uninterested in hustling for the sake of hustling right now.
The Voice in My Head
Other times when I’m asked what I “do” I freeze. I can’t think of a single thing I’ve done that day, though my kids are likely pouring off my body and we’re rushing to another appointment.
Instead I say:
"I can't get anything done these days."
"I don't know what I'm doing right now."
"I need to get my shit together."
I didn't educate the mom who is in between paid work and was snickering about feeling "like a stay at home" that motherhood is a full-time job. I didn't tell the elderly neighbor who asked if I work about the impact of all the non-profit work I do for both my kid's schools.
I didn't tell them I no longer have severe anxiety when the kids are out sick or off school (which is almost every week) because I no longer have to scramble to sub out classes or cancel meetings.
I didn't tell them that my career is a long-game and this pause is actually a power move for my future.
I didn't tell them these things because I didn't have the language.
But I do, now.
Finding My Language Through Mother Untitled
I started following Neha Ruch and her account Mother Untitled shortly after giving birth to my second son. We share a few mutual friends, but I didn't identify as a stay at home parent, so while I would heart every post and nod furiously and cheer aloud "YES! All moms work!" and “YES! Let’s embrace this special time!,” I still felt like an outsider looking in.
It wasn't until I heard her speaking about the gray space that I could self-identify, and it was really reading her book The Power Pause that I finally got it.
I finally accepted it, “Oh my God, I am in the pause.”
No wonder I can't explain it to other people.
Embracing the Goo Phase
I'm in the gray: this amorphous point on my career trajectory. It's the point of the butterfly's life cycle where they are literally goo. No wonder.
And even more revealing after reading her book, was the acceptance: I want to lean into the beauty of this fleeting time. I want to set aside hustle culture and get the gorilla off my back telling me I'm nothing unless I'm producing.
I want to trust that when my kids need me less, I will have the space and energy to produce and create whatever I want.
As I devoured every word on the page of her book, it clicked: So much of my suffering and malaise is because I've been fighting against the natural flow of where my life is right now. I think a lot of moms of young kids feel this.
There’s a pressure to do it all and be everything despite something calling us to slow down and focus inward.
Surrendering to the Flow
I don't want to fight against the natural flow anymore.
I'm actually (gulp) enjoying things being slowed down.
I won’t stop working entirely. I don't think that's the right path for me at this moment. I need to teach. I need to share. I need to help other moms.
But I can do all that smarter. Maybe right now isn't the time to launch a brand new business? Or maybe it is? I don't know. The Universe will tell me when.
And I've never believed that more than after reading The Power Pause and hearing so many stories of incredible women whose careers have taken twists and turns they never imagined, all because they trusted where they were at and allowed themselves to focus on their family during this fleeting time.
Finding My Answer
The question wasn't really about where I'm teaching yoga or what I “do”. The deeper question—the one I needed to answer for myself—was about where I'm at right now and why.
In a system that isn't built for two working parents, especially when one is a yoga teacher and freelancer (read makes less money), something has to give. And in this phase—right now—it's my career ambitions making space for our family life.
This isn't taking the easy road out. It's the embodiment of everything I teach: Being present. Focusing locally. Accepting what is. Surrendering my efforts.
It's yoga off the mat in its purest form.
5 Practices to Embrace Your Power Pause
1. Mindful Mantra: "I'm exactly where I need to be"
Set a timer for 2 minutes each morning
Place one hand on your heart, one on your belly
Breathe deeply and repeat: "I'm exactly where I need to be"
When your mind wanders to your to-do list or career worries, gently bring it back to the mantra
Notice the physical sensations of acceptance in your body
2. Sensory Anchoring
When feeling overwhelmed by career uncertainty, pause and name:
5 things you can see
4 things you can touch
3 things you can hear
2 things you can smell
1 thing you can taste
This practice instantly grounds you in the present moment, reminding you that this phase—right now—is where life is actually happening
3. Moving with Abandon
Set aside 10 minutes daily for uninhibited movement
Turn on music that moves you emotionally
Let your body lead without choreography or judgment
Allow your movements to express whatever emotions arise
Notice how surrendering control in movement teaches you to surrender in life
This practice builds the "surrender muscle" needed to accept career pauses
4. Celebrate the Small Wins: "Ta-Done!"
Keep a small notebook or phone note dedicated to daily "Ta-Dones"
Each evening, write down 3 things you accomplished, no matter how small
Channel my youngest son's enthusiasm when he proudly announces "Ta-Done!" after completing the smallest task
Remember that during this phase, getting out of bed, making a healthy meal, or being present for your child IS the win
Share your "Ta-Dones" with a friend or partner to amplify the celebration
5. Ground Ambitions: Seed-Planting Meditation
Find a quiet space and sit comfortably
Visualize your career ambitions as seeds being planted in rich soil
Acknowledge that every seed needs darkness and rest before sprouting
Remind yourself that every harvest has a fallow period, and every year has a winter
Trust that your career seeds are gathering nutrients during this pause
End by setting one small, manageable action that nurtures your long-term vision without overwhelming your current capacity
The Power in the Pause
Neha Ruch's work through Mother Untitled has given countless women like me the language to understand this phase of life. Her book The Power Pause: How to Plan a Career Break After Kids—And Come Back Stronger Than Ever offers a framework for those of us navigating the complex terrain between career ambition and present-moment parenting.
As Ruch teaches us, this isn't about giving up—it's about strategic pausing. It's about recognizing that sometimes the most powerful career move is to step back, gather yourself, and prepare for an even stronger return when the time is right.
So the next time someone asks me where I'm teaching yoga these days, I'll have a new answer ready: "I'm in a power pause, focusing on family while planting seeds for my next chapter."

Beautifully articulated. I keep reminding myself, I’ve never done this before, been a mom before, raised teenagers before, etc. Having the language and being able to identify his moment makes a difference
Sarah, you’re already there, helping countless women with your honest essays. I always relate in some way to what you’re writing about and it helps me pause and reflect. Thank you.
P.S. My kids are 23 and 20 and I’m still in the goo phase… My energy to create and evolve looks quite different than pre-kids yet it’s still an energy that’s moving within me. As a 57 year old, it looks different than I imagined and that’s finally ok.