Moving house has thrown a lot of my routines. At the beginning I didn't know where half of my things were, because I had packed haphazardly, as everything was so chaotic just before I moved out. We are still living out of boxes to some extent, and I have existed in a state of constant (excited and happy, of course) frazzledness. A large proportion of my thinking has been in the shape of to-do-lists. Between work and the house and attempting a new-to-me kind of domesticity, some things have inevitably fallen by the wayside.
Routines are extremely important to me (and the opposite is true as well - I can get stuck in a rut and need to do things differently - Gretchen Rubin talks a lot about these paradoxes) and one of the best ways to calm an anxious mind. But I easily get sidetracked and prioritise work or chores, which are ritualistic in their own right. Now I am making a conscious effort to dig out (metaphorically and literally) all the things that used to make up my daily/weekly/twice-weekly routines.
One of them is yoga. For a few weeks my yoga mat was only used by John for the exercises he has to do after hurting his back gardening (and we were extolling the health benefits!) and by our neighbours' dog, who loves wriggling on it belly up. But now I am back to doing yoga with the visual help of this luscious book, which is perfect when I just need a sequence I can follow without having to learn anything new or read up on things and when I want quiet and don't want to be guided by a video.
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