#189 Transitions, Rhythms and the Nervous System
Resting with The Sutras starts on Thursday. Join Us!
Resting with the Sutras, my new Yin Yoga Zoom series, starts on Thursday! You can join us here.
For most of my life, I didn’t think very much about transitions.
I don’t know exactly when that began, whether in childhood, in my teenage years, or during my Middle East years, but somewhere along the way, I became very good at stacking things on top of each other.
Class to lesson.
Lesson to Zoom call.
Zoom call to meeting.
Meeting to teaching.
Teaching to travel.
No space in between.
There was a badge of honour in being busy.
“How are you?”
“I’m so busy.”
That was always the answer.
It became a quiet competition:
How much more could I squeeze into one day?
When I became an entrepreneur, this intensified. I felt like every spare moment had to be optimized: teaching, connecting with students, recording podcasts, building programs, answering messages, growing the business.
Free time felt irresponsible.
If I rested, that was time I “could have” spent working.
When Transitions Catch Up With You
Last year, after everything that happened in my personal life, I started to realize how little attention I had ever given to transitions.
I moved through retreats, trainings, classes, travel, relationships, and emotional chapters without really landing anywhere.
I just… kept going.
No pause, integration, or space to process what was happening.
Eventually, even basic things began to feel heavy, driving to Uluwatu to teach, organizing retreats, juggling schedules. Things I used to do effortlessly suddenly felt exhausting.
My nervous system was tired.
But I didn’t know how to name that yet.
Rushed Transitions
Recently, I finished teaching drop-in yoga at 10:30am and realized I had booked an Pilates class at 11am. I had forgotten. The transition time was 30 minutes.
In theory, that sounds fine.
In reality, it meant rushing, changing clothes quickly, grabbing my phone, stressing about being late.
I arrived twenty minutes late.
After class, I realized I had left my motorbike key in the bike the whole time and the light had been on. I was lucky the bike hadn’t died or been stolen while I was in the class.
I forgot the key because I was rushed, because I was dysregulated, because my body was in “hurry mode.”
And as I rode home, I thought:
Wow. A rushed transition doesn’t just affect one moment.
It affects my whole day.
As I rode home I thought about when I was organizing my schedule with my teacher Rolf last year, and I said that I could squeeze in a call back to back with him and another class. He said, “That won’t work. You need transition time.”
It honestly sounded revolutionary.
Transition time?
You mean… space to breathe?
To shift gears?
To arrive in my body again?
No one had ever framed it that way for me before.
From Reach to Regulation
For many years, my goals were backwards.
I was obsessed with reach.
With numbers.
With growth.
With visibility.
With doing more.
More interviews.
More content.
More programs.
More platforms.
And yet my energy was scattered.
I was tired.
Overstimulated.
Often anxious.
Often depleted.
And no wonder things felt harder than they needed to.
Now, my primary goal is different.
My goal is regulation.
To take the best care of my nervous system that I can.
To create spacious transitions.
To move through my days with ease.
To protect my energy.
Because everything flows better from there.
Learning the Language of Rhythm
Alongside transitions, I’ve been learning about rhythm.
Life moves in cycles.
Like the moon, breath, seasons and tides.
For a long time, I lived without rhythm.
Especially after leaving school teaching, after years of rigid schedules and calendars, I swung hard into freedom.
No structure.
No anchor.
No base.
Travel.
Retreats.
Countries.
Time zones.
Constant change.
It felt liberating.
It was also deeply dysregulating.
Why Nomad Life Is So Hard on the Nervous System
In Bali, it’s really common to live nomadically. People are always moving, changing, never having a permanent address or a solid house. I embraced this way of life here for a few years. I read recently read about how difficult nomadic life can be on the body, even when it looks beautiful on Instagram.
Your nervous system craves predictability.
When everything keeps changing, beds, sounds, food, people, routines, your body never fully relaxes.
It’s always adapting.
Always scanning.
Always slightly alert.
Without a real home base, the system rarely gets to exhale.
Social connections stay temporary and saying goodbye is frequent.
Even when you love people, part of you knows:
“This probably won’t last.”
So you hold back.
Decision fatigue becomes constant.
Nothing becomes automatic.
Every day requires mental energy.
And emotionally, movement can become a way of avoiding being deeply seen, deeply held, deeply rooted.
Not consciously.
Nervously.
So experiences don’t fully integrate.
Losses don’t fully process.
Endings don’t fully land.
They stay in the body.
And later they show up as fatigue, anxiety, skin issues, gut issues, restlessness, emotional waves. (Sounds familiar to me!)
Finding My Own Rhythm Again
Now, I’m learning the beauty of repetition.
My Monday-Fridays begin the same:
5:30am — Pranayama & Meditation
7:00am — Zoom Classes (Mon/Tues/Thurs). Wednesdays — Teaching in town at Radiantly Alive
9:30am — Drop In Yoga at Mindful Bali
Then the afternoons and evenings vary — kirtan, Pilates, language lessons, meetings, writing. Every Monday night I teach at Radiantly Alive, every Tuesday night I go to the same Kirtan, every Wednesday I teach yin at Mindful bali, every Thursday I lead a Kirtan at Sky Yoga, every Friday I lead Kirtan at my House.
Weekends for the first time ever are free. :)
Even if the evenings and afternoons vary, the foundation is steady.
The sameness is soothing.
The familiarity is grounding.
My body knows what to expect.
And that feels like safety.
Why “Resting with the Sutras” Exists
All of this is why Resting with the Sutras, my new online yoga series, feels so important right now. I am so excited by the way about how many of you have signed up!
It feels important not just for me, but for all of us.
So many people I work with are tired.
Overstimulated.
Burnt out.
Emotionally overloaded.
Spiritually hungry.
We live in a world of constant input, noise, and urgency.
Our nervous systems are overwhelmed.
And yet we rarely give them true rest.
This series is designed to be regulation in practice.
Through:
Yin - long, supported, quiet shapes that tell the body it is safe
Chanting - rhythmic sound that settles the vagus nerve
Meditation - space for the mind to soften
Wisdom teachings - meaning, context, perspective
It’s not about “learning more.”
It’s about settling.
Digesting.
Integrating.
Landing.
Letting the teachings move from the head into the body.
Letting wisdom become embodied.
Coming Home to the Body
More and more, I’m realizing that healing isn’t about doing more practices.
It’s about learning how to feel safe inside yourself again.
Safe enough to rest.
Safe enough to pause.
Safe enough to stay.
Safe enough to soften.
That’s what rhythm gives us.
That’s what transitions protect.
That’s what regulation restores.
And that’s what Resting with the Sutras is really about.
Not just philosophy.
Not just yoga.
But remembering how to come home to ourselves.
Again and again.
Alexandra
You can save your spot to join us for Resting with the Sutras here!
P.S. this video is from this morning, chanting Yoga Sutra 1.1 in class today :) Atha Yoganusasanam. This is what the weekly chanting will be like, and each week we will chant a different Sutra.
There is one spot left in the June 200 Hour Yoga Teacher Training (March is fully booked!) You can save your spot here.
Thanks for sharing your well written AHA!! I look forward to practicing with you!