Pilates, Presence, and the Power of Being Still

Pilates is the complete coordination of body, mind and spirit.

— Joseph Pilates

Thanksgiving has always held a special place in my heart, not just because of the food or the fall colors, but because it’s woven right into my story. Born at the end of November, my mother brought me home from the hospital on Thanksgiving Day,1974. Maybe that’s why the holiday has always felt like more than a date on the calendar; it’s a feeling. It’s comfort. It's the birthday cake that sits among the pumpkin, pecan and apple pie! Years later, it became even more special, it was on Thanksgiving Day, thirty-two years ago, that my husband got down on one knee and asked me to spend forever with him. For me, Thanksgiving has never been about things or gifts; it’s about the people who make you feel steady, grounded, and grateful just to be where you are.

After spending the last thirty years living in Florida, far from my family and only seeing them in fleeting visits, this Thanksgiving feels profoundly different. Earlier this year, I moved back to the North East, although originally a Brooklyn girl, I relocated my family to the Lehigh Valley to be closer to the people who have always been my foundation. For the first time in decades, I’ll be surrounded by my family, sharing stories, laughter, and that irreplaceable sense of belonging that I’ve missed for so long. This year, Thanksgiving isn’t just my favorite holiday, it’s a homecoming!

As I think about what this Thanksgiving represents, family, roots, and the comfort of simply being close; I’m reminded that stability doesn’t always come from where we stand, but from what supports us at the center. In Pilates, we talk constantly about the core: that deep, unseen strength that keeps everything balanced and connected. Family has always been my emotional core, the anchor that keeps me steady no matter how far I’ve stretched. Whether it’s holding a Reformer position or holding space for the people we love, true strength isn’t loud or visible. It’s quiet, consistent, and deeply felt. This year, I’m grateful to be surrounded by the kind of stability you can’t see in photos or measure in reps, the kind that’s felt deep in your center, exactly where strength begins.

As the holidays approach, it’s easy to get swept up in the rush for presents, the kind you can wrap, tag, and tuck under a tree. But this Thanksgiving, I’m focusing on a different kind of presence. The one you can’t buy or deliver, the kind that happens when you look someone in the eye, listen without distraction, and share a meal without checking your socials, your sports app, or the time. For me, this season isn’t about receiving presents; it’s about being present. It’s about showing up for my family, my friends, my clients, and myself with the same mindful attention that Pilates teaches us to bring to every movement. Because in the end, no wrapped gift could ever match the quiet strength that comes from truly connecting body, mind, and heart right where you are.

The older I get, the more I realize that strength doesn’t always show up as something you can see. It’s not just in the muscles we build, but in the moments we hold, the way we steady ourselves when life changes, the way we make time for what matters most. Pilates has a way of teaching that lesson over and over again. Every time we slow down, focus on our breath, and find control through the smallest movements, we’re reminded that power lives in presence. I can't tell you how many times a client has come to me and said " I need to come to Pilates because it is the only time I get to quiet my mind." I love hearing that because I understand it so deeply and want so much to provide that outlet for a client to take the time for themself. Sometimes it is simply an escape from a heavy work schedule, the stress of daily life, or a brief escape from the heartache of navigating through a sick or ailing family member.

This Thanksgiving, I’m grateful for the quiet kind of strength, the kind that comes from showing up, not showing off. From being where your feet are, surrounded by the people who remind you who you are. I may have built a studio dedicated to strengthening the body, but this season reminds me that our greatest stability begins in the heart.

So here’s to the strength you don’t see, in every moment of stillness, every shared laugh, and every deep breath of gratitude. May this Thanksgiving bring you the calm, connection, and core-centered joy that keeps you grounded through every season.