in and through the body

I got home late Sunday afternoon from my yoga retreat in the mountains. what a time to be sharing this practice. it was great, and I was glad to be home.

After a few days away, I always notice how loud home feels at first. Not so much in a bad way. Just full. Full of my people and our routines and half-finished tasks and questions that need answering.

I unpacked a few things, looked around for a minute, and then ran a bath. The kind where you keep adding hot water because you're not quite ready to get out.

Part of it was simple exhaustion. Part of it was the strange feeling that often follows time away. You spend a few days paying attention to yourself in a way that everyday life rarely allows, and then suddenly you're back in the middle of grocery lists and laundry baskets and deciding what's for dinner.

I don't mean that as a complaint.

It's just interesting how quickly life rushes back in.

This weekend gave me space to notice things I had been moving too quickly to see. Thoughts that had been lingering in the background. Even as a facilitator, feelings I had been setting aside until a more convenient time finally got their moment. Those familiar habits and patterns that are easy to overlook when every day looks more or less the same.

So there I was. Home. Nothing was solved or dramatically shifted. The retreat was over and life was right where I left it.

And honestly, I was glad.

There is something comforting about stepping back into the ordinary rhythm of my days. The packed lunches. The dishes. The conversations that pick up where they left off.

For all the value of stepping away, there is something equally valuable about returning.

About bringing whatever you've noticed back home with you and seeing what remains once the weekend is over.