When Motherhood Becomes Your Sadhana: Love and devotion
You know the moment: the alarm was set for 5 a.m. sadhana, but a small voice calls from down the hall before your first breath settles. The mat stays rolled up. Incense lingers in the air, but the day already belongs to tiny hands, spilled milk, and endless questions. You wonder quietly, almost ashamed if this means you're falling behind on the path.
Let me whisper what Spirit whispered to me in those same tender, exhausting seasons: “You are not failing at practice. You are being invited into a deeper one.”
Motherhood is not an interruption to spiritual life. It ‘is’ the spiritual life when we let it be. The diapers, the dishes, the interrupted meditations, they become the very ground where the Divine Mother plants her feet. She doesn't wait for silence or perfection. She arrives in the mess, in the ordinary rhythm, saying: ‘Here. Right here. I am with you.’
In my own journey, through burnout that cracked me open, memories of India, through the slow medicine of Panchakarma and mantra I learned that awakening doesn't always look like lotus pose at dawn. Sometimes it looks like rocking a crying child at 3 a.m. while silently repeating ‘HARI OM’ under your breath, letting the syllables cradle both of you. Sometimes it looks like warming sesame oil for your feet before bed, a small act of self-love that ripples outward to everyone you touch.
Here are three gentle threads that turned my motherhood into living sadhana. They ask almost nothing of your time, yet they weave the extraordinary back into the everyday.
1. The One Breath Mantra
When chaos swirls, tantrum, spilled food, that sudden wave of "I can't do this" pause for one conscious breath. Whisper (aloud or silently): “I am held.” Or choose a mantra that calls to you: I personally use ‘So Hum’ its a reminder you are not separate, not alone. Over time, these micro moments train the nervous system to remember: you are never walking alone.
2. Ayurvedic Micro-Ritual for Restoration
At the end of the day, when the house quiets, take time for yourself. Warm a little oil (sesame in winter, coconut in summer) and massage it into the soles of your feet. This simple abhyanga grounds vata, calms the mind, and invites the body to rest deeply. As you do it, offer a quiet intention: “May I receive as generously as I give.”
It's not indulgence. It's medicine for you, and through you, for your family.
3. The Evening Reflection Prompt
Before sleep, ask one question: “Where did I glimpse her today?”
Maybe in your child's unfiltered laughter. Maybe in the way fatigue softened your edges and taught surrender. Maybe in the single moment you chose kindness over reaction. Write it down if you can; if not, just let it rest in your heart.
This practice reorients the day from “what went wrong” to “where love showed up.” It trains the inner eyes to see the Divine Feminine moving through ordinary life.
These are not grand gestures. They are small and full of faithful intent . Like the slow drip of ghee into a flame, they build a steady inner light.
If this resonates, if you feel that quiet ache for more depth amid the beautiful chaos, know that you're not alone on this path. Many women have walked it before us, and many walk beside us now. My own story, raw and real, is held in "Awakening Yogini": the illness that became initiation, the mantras that carried me through sleepless nights, the encounters (seen and unseen) that reminded me the Divine is always near.