i dreamed this moment so long ago
There’s a rhythm to life that feels so natural, so deeply connected, it hums like a melody beneath the noise of the day. And then there are moments that rise above the hum — moments that feel like whispers from a dream I had long ago.
This morning, as we sat on the floor, her tiny feet resting next to mine, we played the singing bowls together. I watched her little hands explore the sound and vibration, her face lighting up with curiosity and wonder. I felt an ache in my chest, the kind that comes when the present feels like a memory already.
I dreamed of this long before I ever knew her name.
In the years before I became a mother, yoga was my sanctuary, a space to find myself when everything else felt scattered. It was a place of healing, self-discovery, and connection. I spent countless hours on the mat, learning to hold space for myself and others. Somewhere along the way, I began dreaming of sharing that same connection with a family of my own. Not in a forced way, but in an organic one — the kind of sharing that just happens when you live and love with intention.
Now here she is, a little person who’s already her own beautiful being, and yet, so deeply woven into my heart. Watching her engage with the bowls, experimenting with the sounds and vibrations, it felt as though my life’s path had brought me full circle. This is why I do what I do.
Yoga is more than poses or breathing techniques. It’s a thread that weaves through my life, a tool for discovering strength and softness, healing and joy. It’s been my guide as I’ve built a career teaching and mentoring others, as I’ve grown into motherhood, and as I’ve begun creating new visions — like sharing strength-based movemet as well as sound alongside yoga teachings and leaning into my passion of mentoring other facilitators.
Every step of the way, I’ve followed the pull toward authenticity, connection, and a sense of purpose. Some days it’s been messy, others breathtakingly beautiful. This moment, sitting on the floor with her, feels like both.
As I guide her through these tiny rituals, I’m reminded that the most powerful lessons don’t come from teaching. They come from being. From showing up authentically and letting her see that I, too, am learning. That I’m still a student of this life, this work, this ever-changing dance between grounding and expansion.
I dreamed this moment so long ago, and now it’s here. Not perfect, not polished, but real. I hope she feels the love and intention behind the sound of the bowls and the silence between. And I hope she grows knowing that life is a melody we co-create — with the divine, with one another, and with the dreams that call to us.
For today, though, I’m just grateful to sit here with her, soaking in this quiet magic and the sound of dreams made real.
