Can being a mom and spirituality go together?

Can you continue on your spiritual path despite being a mom? Well, yes and no. Let me tell you a story. It’s of me, a couple of years ago, a newly minted Buddhist, eager to meditate and dive deep on this spiritual path — and then, a couple of months later — boom — becoming a mom. And my subsequent frustrations about not being able to do so.

If there’s one thing motherhood has taught me, it’s that I didn’t leave my spiritual path behind — I just found myself walking it differently, with a small being beside me. Connecting spirituality and motherhood wasn’t easy, after all.

Many traditions speak of a “path” — a way to live with awareness, compassion, and wisdom. Often, it’s linked to time spent in solitude, meditating, studying the mind and inner patterns. But how are you supposed to do this as a mother? You can’t beam yourself away to some distant cave, and daily life is just too distracting for any sort of serious practice.

The Struggle to Fit It All In

At first, I struggled to fit it all in: be a mom, take care of my child, and stay connected to my spiritual community, my sangha. I visited my Buddhist center as often as I could and participated as much as possible. But it was hard. I struggled to contribute as much as before. I often worked into the night to overcome lost time. I tried to make sure my little one didn’t disturb anyone else’s practice. I really wanted to be as involved as before, pushing myself because I felt I was being pulled away from my spiritual path. Needless to say, I failed myself, and that made me feel lacking and guilty.

Same with yoga. As a mom, and soon enough single mom, time is just not on your side. I dropped everything I’d do for myself, including my beloved early morning yoga practice. (Later I discovered alternative ways to practice, but that’s for another story.)

I stopped eating properly. I didn’t move or rest the way I needed to. I said yes when I should have said no. I ignored my own limits, boundaries, and needs.

But that’s not a good way to play the game. And it showed. I yelled when I didn’t want to, exploded over the tiniest things. I needed sleep, rest, proper nutrition, a good social network.

What I was secretly (and unconsciously) craving was someone else to take care of me. I, like so many other moms out there, needed mothering. But it took me a while to realize that I needed to care for myself and my inner children.

The Guilt and Letting Go of Formal Practice

Before motherhood, thirty minutes of meditation felt like an accomplishment. After becoming a mom, even three minutes of me-time seemed impossible. I had often wondered how people did one-month or three-year retreats, but now, there were days I fantasized about swapping lives with someone on silent retreat.

I tried to join an online sangha but couldn’t keep up with the time demands. Within months, I got so frustrated I gave that up and felt guilty about not committing to this spiritual path I so wanted to walk.

The Turning Point — Discovering Mamayana

The shift came when I connected with an elder in my Buddhist community, a mom of two herself. I felt understood. She was wise and compassionate, and she knew how to use skillful means.

She called it Mamayana.

I immediately had a picture in my mind of what it would mean — how I could be the best mom I could be while living a spiritual life. ‘Spirituality is about bridging the gap between self and other,’ she said, ‘and you can very well do that as a mom. You just have to be really conscious of it.’

Mamayana: The Path of Motherhood. Not a new concept, doctrine, or set philosophy. Just a way of naming the path of motherhood as a spiritual path.

That word was tender and strong. Mamayana. And it gave me relief.

It made me realize: motherhood isn’t pulling me away from the path. It is a path. It is my path.

Calling it Mamayana, the Path of Motherhood, gives standing and dignity to the deep work so many of us mothers are already doing. A full, demanding, beautiful, exhausting path that shapes and challenges us, not unlike any other spiritual practice.

Motherhood isn’t a detour from the spiritual path — it can be a path.

Clearly, I hadn’t become a mom — something I had longed for all my life — just by chance. If becoming a mother was meant to be part of my life, I would embrace it as my path and walk it proudly.

Mamayana. The term gave me a concrete anchor, a frame of reference, a metaphor I could use. It helped me form a clear vision of putting all the pieces of my life together and living with awareness as a mom.

Not in the sense of “romanticizing every sleepless night” — but as an invitation to practice consciously, to learn lessons in the middle of the mess, and to keep reflecting.

Motherhood wasn’t separate from my spiritual journey. It was feeding my practice, shaping it and shaping me.

Sacred Moments in the Mess

Mamayana is a path of transformation — a vehicle not just for our children’s growth, but for our own.

When I was a new mom, up nursing my baby in the wee hours of the morning, I sometimes managed to savor those quiet moments. Often, I found myself in the bathroom, perched on the cold rim of the tub, holding my baby over the bathtub, letting her nurse and waiting for her to poop.

This may sound unromantic, but to me, it was as sacred as any mantra. She and I had this thing, this connection, from the very first moment. These were the raw and intimate moments where we got to know each other, night by night, day by day, breath by breath. Mother and child. Two beings, becoming.

Motherhood is an invitation into a whole new world. It’s super intense, but it’s also super transformational.

Why This Path Deserves to Be Seen

Motherhood changes everything — your body, your rhythms, your sense of time, your identity. Your intuition! Use the special gifts and rituals that are built into motherhood wisely, and you will be well on your way.

What struck me most wasn’t just how much it changed me — it was how much it asked of me.

I wasn’t just learning to care for a child. I was learning how to stay present — even when I was triggered. And even more importantly, to meet my child’s needs without overriding my own.

Learning to be present against all odds — again and again. With no time to warm up.

Wasn’t that a really deep spiritual exercise? To soften when you want to brace. To listen when you want to flee. To meet what’s right here, over and over again. That’s mothering in action. And that, if done with awareness, is spiritual practice.

And just when you’ve found your footing — everything changes. It’s impermanence in action. No time to cling. Everything is a phase, and every phase is temporary. Every moment asks you to begin again. Isn’t that just what I was learning in my Buddhist lectures?

Mamayana isn’t a detour from the spiritual path — it is a path, a path so rich it deserves its own story.

What We Learn on the Path of Mamayana

There are lessons I’ve only begun to understand through motherhood. Not because I’ve become wiser or better — but because the rawness of this role strips away the usual hiding places.

Psychotherapist Philippa Perry writes that when we’re triggered by our child, we’re often slipping into a parallel universe: suddenly it’s not just your child, it’s your own inner child at that age crying out for something they didn’t receive. 

Holding space for a screaming toddler can mean sitting with two sets of big feelings — theirs and yours. 

And when you’ve seen yourself go overboard, you get a better understanding how this happens to others. It made me extend more kindness and compassion.

Your child needs you fully here. In your body. In your breath. In this moment. And there, in the humblest places — the crumbs, the tears, the broken toy — something sacred is waiting.

The Wake-Up Call: When Life Says “Enough”

To be honest, the hardest part of Mamayana for me is learning to be kind to myself.

Motherhood is forcing me to see that self-care isn’t optional. And neither is self-kindness. When I don’t take care of myself, I break. And when I break, I’m not helpful to my child. What am I modeling if I put self-sacrifice over true, meaningful love and care?

I thought I took good care of myself. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I knew my batteries were running low, but I didn’t think I was anywhere near breaking point. Here I was, on the Path of Mamayana, taking every instance that crossed my path and using it as fuel for reflection and growth.

Then, I got a wake-up call. I broke my hand. Since I practiced left and right sides equally in yoga, I handled it fairly well. A month later, I broke my big toe. That really hurt and incapacitated me more than I thought. Life was saying: Tina, this is enough.

I had been working on clarity, boundaries, and support networks, but without urgency. Now, it was time to implement.

And not just scraping by with bare-minimum needs, but — this was a biggie for me — daring to look at my wants. As a single mom with high expectations of myself, asking ‘What do I actually want?’ was a no-go. My dreams had been bursting at the seams in the corset of a life that I created for myself.

Compassion, Kindness, Clarity: Redefining Self-Care on the Path

So I’m learning — slowly — to extend the same compassion to myself that I want my daughter to grow up with.

To be gentle with myself. To pause, to breathe. To rest when I need to. To clearly define and mark my boundaries.

It’s not easy. I fail often. But it’s the hardest and most important part of the path for me. My own lessons in kindness, care, connection, and love to myself.

The Possibility of Deep Spiritual Work as Mothers

Not all mothers walk motherhood as a spiritual path. And that’s okay. But it is possible to walk it consciously — to let it shape us, teach us, strip away our blind spots, and deepen our awareness.

It takes effort. It’s not romantic. It’s very earthy — you can’t be a mom with your head in the clouds. It’s raw and messy and at times exhausting. But it’s also deeply transformative.

The Community We’re Building

So to the mothers listening: if you’ve felt guilty for dropping your yoga, your meditation, your sangha — you’re not behind. You’re not failing. You are walking a path. Mamayana.

We’re creating something new here — a recognition that the spiritual path doesn’t have to look like what it usually looks like. That wisdom can be cultivated in your daily life as a mom. 

We’re building a community of mothers who refuse to put their spiritual growth on hold until their children are grown. Who understand that the very act of conscious mothering is itself a profound spiritual practice.

A Blessing for the Mothers on the Path

So, dear mothers —

If you’re in it too, elbows-deep in mess and love and everything in between — I see you.

You’re not off the path. You’re not behind. You haven’t failed because you missed your morning meditation or skipped your weekly yoga class — for years.

You’re walking the path of Mamayana.

Let’s stop measuring ourselves by what we didn’t accomplish and nourish each other like we nourish our children.

I’m walking this path, Mamayana, as consciously as I can — with all the chaos and the magic that come with it.

Let’s shape it and walk it together.

May we begin to see it and honor it. Give it the standing and dignity it deserves.

Mamayana.

And may we begin to see each other, be kind to one another — and also to ourselves.

Because when we begin, others will follow.

your invitation

If this path resonates with you and you’d like a companion along the way — someone to reflect with, to walk beside you in your own unfolding — I offer 1:1 coaching for mothers navigating big inner shifts. You’re welcome to reach out for a free intro call.