The Practice of Presence in a Busy Life

I’ve been delaying the building of this website for some time. When I reflect on the “why,” I realize it comes back to this idea of presence.

I started practicing yoga over 14 years ago, completed teacher training five years ago, and began teaching regularly about three years ago. Throughout that time, I’ve been balancing building a fulfilling life, a full-time job, and navigating all the responsibilities that come with simply being a human adult.

Like many people, I tend to set lofty goals at the beginning of a new year — ambitious plans to conquer the world. What I’ve noticed, though, is that the version of myself who sets those goals doesn’t always consider the future self who will have to carry them out.

I’ve been thinking about the goals I set in early 2025. Some were big — like taking my dream sabbatical trip. But of all the bold ambitions I outlined, the only ones I didn’t even attempt were the ones related to growing my yoga work. They were simple: “teach a class somewhere new,” “reach out to someone in the industry.” And yet, they remained untouched.

As I reflect, I’m beginning to understand why. I don’t think I’ve been fully present with the part of myself that wants those things.

For me, presence means turning down the external chatter — the noise from inside my own head and from the world around me. When I think about why I delayed working on this website, I see how often I try to be anywhere but here with it, in the moment. One voice — the perfectionist — tells me I need the perfect font, the perfect name, the perfect colors, the perfect poses. Another voice remembers how rejection has hurt in the past. A future-oriented voice worries about how this will be received.

But when I sit in the present moment — like right now, at an airport waiting for a flight to head home — and I tune into what my body is actually saying, there’s only one question: “What are you waiting for?”

My theme for 2026 is to continually bet on myself. So this is me doing exactly that. This website isn’t perfect. But it’s an action. It’s something overthinking didn’t get to block. It’s a baby step.

It’s a small way of choosing presence.
And a small way of choosing myself.