Be Where Your Feet Are

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about presence.

About being where your feet are.

It’s a simple phrase, but one that has stayed with me. The idea of truly being present. Of being in our bodies instead of constantly living in our minds.

Because if we’re honest, there is just so much going on.

There’s always something to do. Somewhere to be. Someone to care for. A text to answer. A list to finish. A plan to make. It feels like our minds rarely get a break.

I think about the 45 minutes you spend on your reformer each week. For many of you, it may be one of the only things you do that’s completely for you.

But when we arrive…are we really giving ourselves that time?

Or do we show up physically while mentally we’re already planning dinner, replaying yesterday’s conversation, worrying about work, or thinking about where we need to be next?

To be honest, I can usually tell.

I can feel when your mind has wandered. Your movement changes. Your focus shifts. You’re still doing the exercises, but you’re no longer experiencing them.

That’s why you’ll often hear me gently remind you to come back.

Back to your breath.

Back to your body.

Back to this one movement.

Back to this one moment.

Not because you’re doing anything wrong, but because these 45 minutes are yours. And I don’t want your mind to steal them from you.

This lesson didn’t come naturally to me.

When my daughter was little, I was a young single mom working full time, managing a busy bank, and leading a team of employees. I became incredibly organized because I had to. My calendar was color-coded, every minute had a purpose, and I prided myself on keeping everything together.

But somewhere along the way, I realized I wasn’t really anywhere.

When I was at work, I was thinking about my daughter. Was she okay after that tearful drop-off? What would we have for dinner? How could I make the most of the little time I’d have with her before she went to her dad’s?

Then I’d get home, and my mind would immediately return to work. Did I send that email? How was I going to handle that difficult conversation? Would we hit our goals this month?

I was physically in one place but mentally somewhere else.

I couldn’t be the best version of myself because I was never fully where I actually was.

That realization changed me.

I started studying mindfulness. At first, I thought mindfulness meant clearing your mind or somehow achieving this peaceful state where no thoughts existed. I quickly learned that’s not what it is at all.

Mindfulness is simply noticing when your mind has wandered…and choosing to come back.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Over time, it became one of the greatest gifts I have ever given myself. I became more patient. More focused. More connected. I found that when I was fully present with the person in front of me or the task I was doing, I actually enjoyed life more. I wasn’t constantly rushing to the next thing. I wasn’t living in tomorrow while missing today.

I’m still practicing.

Some days I’m better at it than others. My mind still wanders just like everyone else’s. The difference is that now I notice it, and I know how to gently guide myself back.

It’s why I teach this so often in class.

When I ask you to notice your breath, I’m not just talking about breathing.

When I ask you to slow down, I’m not just talking about movement.

I’m inviting you to practice presence.

Because presence is a skill.

The beautiful thing is that it doesn’t require perfection. It only requires practice.

The next time you find yourself moving mindlessly through class, see if you can catch it. Feel your feet pressing into the footbar. Notice the carriage moving beneath you. Match your movement to your breath. Pay attention to one muscle working instead of thinking about the next ten things on your list.

Those tiny moments matter more than you think.

Research has shown that even brief moments of mindfulness can help calm the nervous system, lower stress hormones, improve focus, and reduce the mental chatter that leaves so many of us feeling exhausted. Our breathing slows. Our bodies soften. We become more aware of how we’re moving instead of simply reacting. And over time, those small moments of presence begin spilling into the rest of our lives, making us more patient with the people we love, more focused at work, and more connected to ourselves.

So this week, my invitation for you is simple.

Be where your feet are.

Whether you’re on your reformer, sitting at dinner with your family, walking your dog, or driving to work, notice when your mind leaves the moment.

Then gently…

without judgment…

come back.

I’ll keep reminding you in class.

And maybe, eventually, you’ll start reminding yourself.

All my love,
Jess

June 2026