16/04/2026
The art of getting lost 🌀
Last year, without really noticing, I drifted away from my practice. It was slow and subtle, like the tide pulling me further out to sea until I realised I felt completely far from myself.
What began as one missed day turned into weeks, then months. The body I once listened to became something I moved through on autopilot. Even the things that once grounded me started to feel distant.
And maybe, in some way, I needed to get lost. To drift far enough to feel the absence. To understand what truly supports me, not out of routine but out of necessity.
Coming back has not been about rebuilding something perfect. It has been about remembering what actually supports me in everyday life and returning to the basics that bring me back into my body and breath.
For me, embodiment is in the small things. Noticing tension in my shoulders and softening them. Catching a shallow breath and allowing it to deepen. Recognising overwhelm as a signal to slow down, rest, move, drink water or pause.
It is also in the practices I return to when I can, asana, pranayama, meditation, journalling and sometimes oracle cards, not for answers but for reflection.
And just as much, it is in the ordinary moments. Feeling my feet on the ground. Choosing presence over autopilot. Coming back again and again.
This is a glimpse of that return, not perfect, not linear but real, just like life is.
I believe embodiment is something we carry with us, but it is also something we keep coming back to.
A remembering. A way of being in relationship with the body and the nervous system that asks for ongoing awareness, care and honesty.
I have learned that the most important part of practice is not doing more but noticing what truly helps me feel grounded and letting go of what does not.
Everyone’s practice will shift. Everyone will drift at times. And the practice, for me, is in noticing that drift without judgement and returning again and again.
This is mine, not as it used to be but as it is now, in the making of coming home.