contraction + expansion
In the non-dual Tantric yoga tradition, there is a beautiful teaching called spanda. Often translated as the “divine pulsation” — this idea refers to the subtle vibration of consciousness itself. It’s the creative impulse of the universe, the dynamic dance of stillness and movement, of contraction and expansion. It lives in everything. In you. In your breath. In your joy. In your pain. In your becoming.
My daughter turns three tomorrow, and I’ve been reflecting on those early days with her a lot lately. This week, over lunch with a dear friend— someone who walked closely with me through those first months of motherhood — I was met with a tenderness I hadn’t quite allowed myself. She helped me see the mother I was then, and the mother I am now, with gentleness and grace.
Something in her words opened a wave of memory—truths I’ve been quietly carrying. Those early months were some of the hardest I’ve known. I struggled silently with postpartum anxiety for over six months before I even had the language to ask for help. My support network was thin, my nervous system frayed, and like so many, I was mothering without a mother of my own to lean on. Looking back, I can see just how lonely and disorienting it truly was.
During our conversation, I brought up a specific moment from that time that still haunts me—a moment when I wasn’t my best self. I hadn’t planned to share it, but the words just poured out of me. As soon as they landed, I felt my chest tighten
Right away, she held me with such sincere compassion and invited me to see that moment through a different lens: no shame in sight, but through the eyes of my higher power (divine mother, indwelling spirit —whatever you call it). She asked me to imagine how Spirit might have seen me… overwhelmed, exhausted, and doing the best I could. And perhaps, I was worthy of tenderness— even then.
That maybe, in that moment, grace ached for me.
Something in me exhaled for the first time in years.
When we experience contraction (ie. fear, grief, overwhelm, self-doubt), it’s easy to think we’re off-path, or regressing. But spanda teaches us that contraction is not a detour; it’s part of the rhythm. It’s the exhale before the inhale. The swell before the wave. It’s the fertile ground in which expansion takes root, and it speaks to the primal throb that exists in all things reminding us that life doesn’t move in straight lines, but in waves and spirals.
Right now, I’m standing in that sacred rhythm. I feel the contractions — grief, vulnerability, unmet needs rising to the surface — and I also feel the call to expand. I’m witnessing my own growth as a mother, as a woman, and as a guide for others. I’m honoring the parts of me that still need to be mothered, while holding space for the work I’m called to do in the world — which is deeply personal. Supporting people one-on-one is about meeting them in the real, pulsing places of their lives — and translating that to their businesses. Not everyone is willing to see themselves on a level like this. And that’s okay!
If you’re reading this and feeling into your own contraction, just know that you’re not alone.
You don’t need to be polished to be powerful. You just need to be willing to listen to the inner rhythm and trust that it will carry you toward the next true thing.
