Acknowledging the Unacknowledged Labour: How Yoga Can Become a Realistic System for Balance and Self-Care

By Riya Davda

Working mothers often carry two jobs:

• the paid work everyone recognises (what economists call “labour market” work), and

• the unpaid work that keeps homes and families running - cooking, cleaning, caregiving, planning.

  
  

Globally, women still do a disproportionate share of this unpaid care and domestic work - often several times more than men. This doesn’t show up on a payslip, but it directly affects whether and how women can participate in the labour market (i.e., paid employment). Analyses by bodies like the ILO and OECD point out that this unpaid work keeps hundreds of millions of women out of formal jobs and contributes to long-term gaps in income and pensions.

This invisible load isn’t just about hours. It’s also the mental load: anticipating needs, planning, remembering, and switching between roles.

By context-switching, I mean jumping rapidly from one role or task to another - replying to a work email, then packing a snack box, then answering a school message - without ever really landing in one thing.

Physiologically, this can feel like your nervous system is “always on”: shallow breathing, mind racing, body a bit tense even when you’re sitting still. Practically, it looks like sleep being cut, workouts dropped, quiet time postponed.

So when someone says “just take time for self-care,” it can sound like yet another item on a list that’s already overflowing.

The intention here is not to add another “should.” It’s to offer a simple, realistic yoga framework - small practices that fit into the life you already live, rather than asking you to build a new one.

When the Caretaker Becomes a Performer

Working mothers who also teach yoga live a tender paradox: caretakers on and off the mat - holding space for students at dawn, clients at noon, and families by night.

On paper, it may look like “you’re doing yoga all day,” but the unseen work adds up: sequencing, subbing, creating content, answering messages, commuting between classes - layered over pickups, meals, homework, and sometimes elder care.

In that mix, a personal practice can quietly shift from nourishment to performance:

• practising mainly to test a sequence,

• choosing shapes because they photograph well,

• feeling pressure to “keep up” with trends for social media,

• treating your own mat time as rehearsal rather than refuge.

Yoga becomes another way of giving - to students, to platforms, to expectations - instead of a way of returning to yourself.

This is a small invitation to reverse that, gently.

A Small Hug Through Yoga: Reset for Mothers (and Especially Teacher-Mothers)

1) Reset – Quick Regulation for Teachers on the Go

These practices are written with yoga teachers in mind, but they work just as well for any mother or caregiver needing a nervous system “mini-reset.”

• Sama Vṛtti Prāṇāyāma (equal ratio breathing) This steadies your breath, your energy , and your voice before class, meetings, or difficult conversations.

• Viṣama Vṛtti (longer exhale) Use this in the car before driving home or just before you step through the door. The longer exhale signals “you can soften now” to the nervous system.

• Trāṭaka (soft, steady gaze) Rest your eyes on a single gentle point (a spot on the floor or a distant object) for 60–90 seconds. Then close your eyes and notice the after-image. This simple dr̥ṣṭi practice gathers scattered attention and calms the agitated, rajasic mind.

• Optional midday restore (when fatigue peaks) Yoga Nidrā : Lie down with legs extended or supported, place an eye pillow or scarf over your eyes, and follow a short guided Nidra. Think of this as class prep for your nervous system - a way to refill your internal battery so you’re not teaching on empty.

Why name it teacher-specific? Frequent demoing, irregular hours, and “holding space” for others can keep a teacher’s baseline activation high. These brief prāṇāyāma and dr̥ṣṭi practices help recalibrate your cues, tone, and patience without demanding a full 90-minute practice. And if you’re not a teacher, you can still borrow them as tiny anchors in your day.

Gentle Reminder

Self-care isn’t indulgence and it isn’t another task to tick off. It’s maintenance for the human being at the centre of it all - you.

Start with one micro-practice linked to something you already do (parking the car, making tea, turning off your laptop). Give it the same respect you give a class you teach or a meeting you would never miss.

Not because your family or students need you regulated; but because you deserve to feel held, seen, and resourced, even when no one is watching.