Home, sweet home.

After some time away on the road, I’m finally settling back into home, and it feels wonderful, jet lagged and all.

Travelling has always had a way of opening my eyes and my heart. New places, new rhythms, new people, and a fresh perspective on life. There’s something magical about stepping out of familiar routines and discovering what feels different, surprising, or even a little (a lot) challenging.

This trip reminded me, more than ever, how much I’ve changed over the years. Travel has been part of my life since I was just shy of 20 and saved my money to backpack abroad. Mostly tenting and staying in hostels, sleeping on ferries, buses, and trains to save money on accommodation, I could sleep and eat anywhere.

These days, travel feels a bit (a lot) different in my body now. I notice things I didn’t before: the way my hips and back whisper after a flight or a long day on a bus, or on the back of a camel!

I crave quiet moments to recharge, which were hard to come by as we packed and unpacked after each day of hiking, exploring, and the long distances we covered each day.

On a particularly long travel day when I was feeling unwell, the thought rattling around in my head was “I am too old to do this now”, which triggered some grief over aging and how easily I used to be able to meet the peaks and valleys that are inherent with travel.

I was fortunate to be travelling with a nurse who supported me, and things did turn around. As my energy returned, I was able to reframe my experience and find myself grateful for the clarity it brought: my body needs me to pack differently now than when I was a younger woman. This is the season I am in.

Instead of resisting my age and stage of life, I came to see them as gentle invitations to care for myself more intentionally. And with that reframe, my enthusiasm returned.

And yet… as amazing as it is to step away and experience new people, culture, and experiences, it is even better to return.

Coming home means slipping back into the rituals that support me: morning coffee from my own mug with my candle lit and doggy cuddled beside me in the dark morning, the familiar creak of my floorboards, the comfort of my routines, and most of all — you. My community. The people who make my days feel grounded, purposeful, and full of connection.

Which is why I am truly excited to return to teaching our weekly yoga classes.

I’ve missed the shared breath, the collective energy of moving together, the peaceful energy following yoga nidra, the simple joy of being in the same room practicing together.

I was thrilled to teach a yoga class on a rooftop deck in the Atlas Mountains in Morocco for our (amazing) group of travellers, who were also weary from hiking, busing, and sleeping on a different mattress each night. What a treat that was, and how it made me miss our classes even more.

The beautiful yoga session we had (look at those textiles!)

Teaching always reminds me of why I practice: to reconnect, to rebalance, to belong.

So thank you for being the home I’m so happy to come back to.

I can’t wait to roll out my mat with you again, to breathe with you, to learn from you, and to settle back into the rhythm of our practice together.