Flour Pose

I sent a version of this photo via text to my yoga friends this evening and joked that I was practicing Flour Pose…I thought it was super clever and then I started to mull it over. A couple of hours later, I’m sitting here writing about it. 

It’s my high season and I’m making a lot pies this week and next. It’s tense, busy, messy, too. I’m fielding calls, organizing production, crimping dough. I have bills to pay and messages to return. I can feel the strain in my neck muscles, the pressure in my forehead, the ache in my feet after standing for hours on end. 

As I make pies, I think. About what’s next. About getting home in time to let the dogs out, whether my sons are eating well and driving at the speed limit. 

I think about the article I read this morning about the state of the world—no, it was about the capacity of human beings to reason, imagine, and evolve when confronted with adversity. I think about the things I need to remember to do: call far-flung family. Respond to a neighbor’s party invite. Order more eggs.  

The yoga practice is what saves me, not just physically…but in all ways. It reminds me to breathe, to notice the tension in my body, to let things go. 

I started something out of nothing. I made a pie one day. Now I make many pies in a day. 

There is ease. There is difficulty. There is pie. 

Flour pose.

Getting ready for the High-Pie Holidays. Nov 20, 2025