Yoga Pathways

Let’s talk about what really happens when your routine goes on holiday before you do.

Picture this: me, my Ryanair-sized under-seat bag (packed with optimism and not much else), and my family, ready to take on Berlin. My new skincare routine? Abandoned at home with my full-sized cleanser and any hope of glowing holiday selfies. Intermittent fasting? Out the window faster than you can say “Wiener Schnitzel” When you travel with boys who eat on the hour and get hangry if a meal is late, the only thing intermittent is my patience.

Freedom! (Sort of)

There’s a wild kind of freedom in letting go of routine. No alarm for sunrise yoga. No “just five minutes” of meditation before breakfast. No carefully portioned snacks. Instead, it’s croissants at 10, bratwurst at 12, ice cream at 2, and the kind of family togetherness that would make even the most seasoned yogi crave a silent retreat.

For a moment, I thought: “Maybe I’m a new person now! Maybe I don’t need routine. Maybe I’ll just go with the flow forever.” Obviously, I am not that person.)

The Fear It’s Permanent

But then, somewhere between the third museum and the fourth round of snacks, a new thought crept in: “What if I never get my routine back? What if this is me now—permanently eating rubbish, slightly frazzled, and unable to remember the last time I did a downward dog that wasn’t just bending to pick up dropped litter from the hotel room floor?

The fear is real. When every day is a free-for-all, it’s easy to forget you ever had a routine. Will I ever meditate again? Will my yoga mat recognise me, or will it roll itself up in protest? Will my skin ever forgive me for swapping green juice for schnitzel?

Embracing the Pause (with a Dash of Yoga Philosophy)

I had visions of rolling out my (metaphorical) yoga mat on the vast Tempelhof runway, basking in the Berlin sun, and finally getting my outdoor yoga fix. But there was one major obstacle: my teenage and twenty-something children. Any time I so much as attempted something remotely “weird” (read: anything that wasn’t scrolling on my phone or walking in a straight line), my 17-year-old and 22-year-old were there, phones poised, ready to capture my “eccentric” behaviour for their personal highlight reels.

Me asleep on a train with my mouth open? Immortalised. Attempting a sun salutation in public? I could already feel the TikTok notifications buzzing. Sometimes, the greatest asana is dodging the paparazzi and practicing aparigraha—letting go of the need to be the perfect yogi, at least until we’re home.

The Joy of Coming Back

And then, finally, home. The familiar sight of my yoga mat, my favourite mug, my neglected but forgiving moisturiser. The first sun salutation after a week away feels like a reunion with an old friend. My body creaks, my mind sighs in relief, and I remember: routine isn’t a prison, it’s a homecoming.

So here’s to the freedom of breaking routine, the fear that it might never return, and the absolute joy of discovering it always does. Even if your skincare is off, your fasting is forgotten, and your “practice” was mostly walking from bakery to bakery—your routine is waiting, just where you left it.

How do you handle breaks in your routine? Do you embrace the chaos, or count the days until you’re back on your mat? Share your stories—extra karma for snack-fueled warrior poses and savasana selfies!