Pregnancy amplifies everything. Smell becomes overwhelming in the first trimester. Sound feels louder. Touch becomes either desperately needed or completely unbearable depending on the day and the trimester. The nervous system is already working harder than usual processing the physical changes, the hormonal shifts, the emotional weight of becoming a parent, and it has fewer resources left for filtering the external world.

This is why so many pregnant people describe feeling overstimulated in ways they never did before. The capacity that usually runs quietly in the background; the ability to filter, to tune out, to not take everything in - is compromised. Because the body is using that energy for something else.

Pregnancy changes the body's relationship to movement in ways that are profound, constant, and not always predictable. Your centre of gravity shifts. The ligaments loosen! The hormonal processes can effect every joint in the body, not just the ones you're using. The diaphragm is compressed. The cardiovascular system is working harder than usual just to sustain the baseline. Balance changes. Energy is unreliable. What felt accessible last week may not feel accessible today.

A consistent breathwork practice in pregnancy does something specific: it trains your nervous system to regulate. Not to avoid stress (not possible) but to move through it and return to baseline more efficiently. And your capacity to spike and return, to feel overwhelmed and come back? That is exactly what labor will ask of you. Every contraction is a wave your nervous system needs to meet and move through. What I wish everyone knew: the woman who has been practicing regulation for months arrives at that experience MUCH differently than the one who hasn't.

Santosha is often translated simply as contentment. But in the context of pregnancy and in the context of modern life, modern bodies, and the particular cruelty of social media… it's something far more specific and far more necessary:

The practice of releasing the gap between how things are and how you think they should be.

Not toxic positivity. Not pretending everything is fine when it isn't. Not forcing gratitude when what you actually feel is nauseous, terrified, or quietly grieving parts of your former self. Santosha is subtler than that. It's the practice of meeting this moment, the specific, imperfect, uncomfortable, occasionally beautiful moment, without the additional weight of how it was supposed to be different.

Brahmacharya is the practice of learning what drains you, what restores you, and how to consciously redirect your energy toward what actually matters. It's about becoming so attuned to your own resources that you stop leaking energy unconsciously through things like people pleasing, overcommitting, scrolling, saying yes when your body is screaming no. Sound familiar? You can start making deliberate choices about where your vitality goes.

Yoga Nidra translates to "yogic sleep," but that's kind of misleading because the whole point is to stay awake. You're lying down in the most comfortable position you can find (props encouraged, no judgment), and you're guided through a systematic relaxation of your body and mind.

Going too deep in a pose, especially repeatedly over time, does more harm than good. Yogis with strong practices who loved splits and deep hip openers are now dealing with hip issues. People who loaded their shoulders for years in chaturangas and arm balances are facing injuries. If you're already amped up and stressed, overstimulated, running on adrenaline, and you keep choosing high-intensity, fast-paced classes, you're not honoring what your body actually needs. Especially if you’re (don’t hate the messenger) female. A mom. A coffee drinker. In the midst of as the internet loves to say: ‘generally gesturing all around about’ all this.

I want more people to experience the ripple effect: you come to yoga for your tight hamstrings and you leave with better boundaries. You come to manage stress and you leave with a spiritual practice. You come for one reason and you stay because you've touched something real: the integration of body, breath, and mind. The lived experience that you're not broken, you're not separate from yourself, you're not supposed to be thinking your way through everything.

I want more people to know that a practice that evolves with you is a practice you'll never outgrow. That being a forever student isn't a failure to master something. It's an acceptance that growth and learning and deepening are the actual destination.

To me, there’s no fault in enjoying Dec 31/Jan 1 as a reset, a time for new beginnings. New year, new you may be cliché, but it’s all what you make it and any day is a good day to set an intention.