Finding enough
The full moon on 5th November rose quietly, bright and unwavering, while life around me spun fast. Between work, family, recovery, and teaching, I’ve been running on full power - but this moon reminded me that sometimes “full” doesn’t mean overloaded. It can also mean whole.
On the 5th November, the moon reached her fullest point in Taurus - round, bright, and steady in the sky. I didn’t go out to watch it this time. I saw it from the conservatory window while loading the dishwasher, the kids still awake, one asking for water, the other singing to herself.
It was one of those ordinary evenings where everything and nothing happens at once - dinner dishes, messages pinging, lesson plans half-finished. And yet, for a moment, the light of the moon caught my eye, and I felt that familiar tug: a reminder to pause, to breathe, to remember that fullness isn’t something to chase. It’s already here, quietly woven through the chaos.
Life feels full - and not always in the calm, poetic way
This year has been a lot. We have lost family members and experienced financial and mental setbacks. Working full-time, teaching yoga, building my own practice, keeping two children alive and (mostly) happy -sometimes it feels like I’m holding everything together with a few deep breaths and a scrunchie.
I’ve been sober for a while now, and recovery is beautiful, but it’s also exhausting. Some days it feels like a practice in itself: staying grounded, staying honest, staying open when the world feels loud. Perfectionism still knocks at the door; people-pleasing still whispers that I’m not doing enough.
But lately, especially under this Taurus full moon, I’ve been noticing something else. Even in the mess, there’s so much love. So much giving. So many moments of connection that slip by quietly, but mean everything.
The moon as a mirror
In yoga, the moon represents the cooling, reflective side of energy - the part that listens instead of pushes. When I think of Taurus, I think of grounding. Of simple pleasures. Of coming back to the body.
So I’ve been asking myself: what if this “enoughness” I’m always chasing - the perfect day, the perfect balance - isn’t something to reach for, but something I’m already living? Maybe it’s already here, hidden in the moments when I stop long enough to feel it.
Like when my kids belly laugh. Or when I make tea before bed and actually sit to drink it. Or when I watch my yoga teacher training friends step into their own power and feel a quiet, bubbling pride.
A few gentle practices for the days after the full moon
These aren’t rules or rituals - just ways to soften into the season, to notice your own enoughness:
Move slowly. Take your practice down a notch. Fewer poses, longer breaths. Feel your feet, your heartbeat, your weight. Let it be simple.
Write something kind to yourself. Not a list of goals - just one sentence about what you’ve already done well. Read it back when the voice of “not enough” gets loud.
Let something go. A habit, a plan, a need to prove yourself. Even for a day.
Light a candle. Not because it’s a ritual, but because the light feels good.
The lesson I keep circling back to
The moon was in Taurus, the sign that reminds us to stay steady, to build our peace one small action at a time. And I think that’s all any of us can do.
This full moon didn’t bring me grand revelations. It just reminded me that I’m already doing it - living, loving, showing up. That even when I forget, my life is already full.
And maybe yours is too.
If you’d like to practice lunar-aligned Hatha Flow with me in person, join my classes in Faversham - view the timetable here.
