It seems the world wants loud, consistent, endlessly available versions of us. I left that world when I left my corporate career to become a stay-at-home mother and moved to rural New Zealand. But sometimes it still gets to me.

The gap between the life I want and the life I live is smaller than it was five years ago, but it is still there. I have a warm little house on a beautiful piece of land, in a gorgeous country, with my amazing family. My life is full of privilege. It also feels hard.

My main challenge: how do I live the life I want, be visible, do what I love and earn money from it, while honouring my principles and my energy levels?

My first born is a sweet, sensitive boy, who needs ample attention. He feels deeply, and he brings the whole family with him on this feeling journey. We are a family of sensitive beings, a moody household, with a lot of emotional weight on my shoulders. How do I raise my children, give them everything they need and deserve, while also honouring my hermit tendencies, Aquarius moon (meaning I need lots of alone time) and allowing my nervous system to rest?

Every day I have to decide whether to write for Substack or clean up the kitchen. Tidy up toys or do a workout. Bake something or take a shower. Something always loses.

I deleted my Instagram a couple of years ago. I could not shake the feeling of not doing enough, not being enough, every time I opened the app. Everyone was selling me a product, a service, a piece of knowledge that would make me feel better, do better, have more time in my day. It is tempting to try another magic pill that will help me with my ADHD tendencies, or my Vata-imbalanced mind that loves to spin anxious thoughts until I have no energy left in my body.

I am getting better at managing life. By learning my own patterns, I'm able to work with my energy instead of against it. But this is a full-time job. Combine it with immense emotional needs, broken sleep, and a mental load only mothers understand, and it is not a walk in the park.

You know how I’d love my day to look? Wake up early and quietly. Sit with a hot drink, reading or journaling. Do yoga or a workout before the children wake up in good moods, happily playing together, while I make a nutritious breakfast for us all.

Most mornings, they go from asleep to making loud demands in under a minute. Find a toy. Fix a problem. Ten requests before I have opened my eyes.

I’d like enough time to read every book on my list. To walk, work out, sit in quiet observation of nature. To finally establish my garden. To cook three meals and snacks from scratch. To spend enough time alone, enough time with my husband, enough time with my children, including one-on-one time. I’d like my writing and my knowledge to start bringing in money without stressing or overwhelming my system.

Is it too much to ask? Don’t answer that. I know it is. But I still want it.

I don’t have the answer. Even the path to simplicity feels overwhelming. But there’s a gap in the narrative I keep bumping into: you can love your life and want much more from it at the same time. I can love my children more than the Universe itself and still be sad that I am never alone. I suppose I need to learn to accept it.

Or maybe I just need to wait till I’m retired.

If you’ve been through this, please show me your ways.

There once was a stream, small and fresh, born high in the mountains, where the rocks held the strength of metals and the wisdom of precious stones. She knew that she carried parts of that wisdom and strength within her, just as well as she knew the journey that lay ahead. She was not meant to become a lake, patient and still. She was destined to move, grow and become a mighty river. And she was afraid of it, in a way that you know something is inevitable, but still aren’t ready for it.

The first danger was disappearing. She was so small, in places barely a trickle, and when the sun burned too bright she risked drying to nothing before she'd even begun. She learned to read the light and bend her path through the shaded parts of the forest, where the moss held moisture and the air stayed cool.

Then came the mud. Stone and earth crowded her banks, and there were days she moved so slowly she wasn't sure she was moving at all. Thick, sluggish, half-buried in silt. On those days she had to find something sharper in herself. A little anger, even. Enough to push through.

Slowly, she learned her own patterns, the impact of the elements and seasons around her and how to help herself through it: what to do when she'd run thin, how to move when she'd bog down. She knew how to carry herself, but the fear didn't leave. It only changed shape. What happens when I let myself experience the full force of my own power? What happens if I lose control?

Carrying her strength, her wisdom and her fear, she kept going. She became a brook, then a small river, and as she was growing, the size of herself began to frighten her more than the mud ever had. She missed the mountains, the smallness, the shade, the way no one depended on her yet. Now animals drank from her. Plants rooted along her edges. People built their lives near her water. The responsibility of that felt heavier than anything she had experienced before.

Out of pure desperation, she stopped carrying the weight of responsibility for everyone. She still provided the support, but detached with heartfelt warmth from the outcomes. She stopped trying to hold a shape and let herself be whatever the day required. Some days she flooded and raged. Some days she ran quiet and shallow. She kept moving. She kept surrendering. She kept carrying the essence of what she was. That was the only thing that had ever really been asked of her.

Where are you in the stream’s journey right now? Still finding the courage to leave the mountain, stuck in the mud, or scared of how much space you’re starting to take up?

I’d love to know. Tell me in the comments.

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You can find part 1 with the guide to Air and Ether here.

I want to remind you about one of the main principles in Ayurveda: the rule of opposites. If you take only one thing from this article, please may it be this:

like attracts like; opposites bring balance

The logic is very simple: if you feel burnt out, invite the opposite: slowness, coolness, sweetness, playfulness.

Each of us has a different ground zero. With time, the Doshas (combinations of elements) go out of balance. Seasons, food, lifestyle all influence this. In fact, they love going out of balance. Too little, too much - always fluctuating.

Ether + Air = Vata dosha

Fire + Water = Pitta dosha

Water + Earth = Kapha dosha

Today I want to talk about the two elements that make Pitta dosha: Fire and Water. These two go out of balance easily, especially in modern life, especially if your Vata is already imbalanced. Our world is fast, hot, and dry by nature. This is also particularly relevant for women aged 16-50, the years of building a career, building a body, building a family, often all three in the same decade. Pitta doesn't just go out of balance here. It gets rewarded for going out of balance, right up until the body starts rebelling. I will discuss the ways to invite the balance back below.

Fire - the Force of Transformation

Fire is transformation. It’s the light in your eyes, the spark of your intellect, the heat of your metabolism, the courage to speak your truth. Everything that converts one thing into another - food into energy, thought into insight, anger into boundary - carries the element of Fire.

It is your ability to digest life: physically, mentally, spiritually.

It is hot, sharp, light and clear by nature. In excess, those qualities show up everywhere: a short fuse, acid reflux, a reactive mind.

How to recognise when Fire is imbalanced

Fire in excess: too much heat and excess speed

In the body:

• Acid reflux, heartburn, ulcers

• Skin conditions: rashes, acne, inflammation, rosacea

• Excess body heat, night sweats, a face that flushes easily

• Sharp hunger (”hangry” is a Pitta word)

• Premature greying, hair thinning, a scalp that’s hot to the touch

In the mind:

• Irritability, a short temper

• Perfectionism, harsh self-criticism

• Judgement of others, impatience with slowness (including your own)

• Competitiveness that tips into needing to win or be right

• Burnout dressed up as ambition: driving yourself past the point of exhaustion

Fire in depletion: not enough heat

• Poor digestion, low appetite, a metabolism that seems to have gone quiet

• Lack of drive, dullness, difficulty getting motivated or finishing what you start

• A dimmed sense of purpose, feeling like the spark has gone out

• Difficulty processing emotions or experiences: things sit undigested

• Low confidence, an inability to assert a boundary or a “no”

A question to ask yourself

Where in your life are you burning too hot, and where has the fire gone out?

For me, Fire imbalance feels like I can’t seem to process life properly. Everything cuts too deep: thoughts, words, actions.

Water - the Great Connection

Water is what holds things together. It’s in your blood, your saliva, your tears, the fluid around your joints, the plasma that carries nutrients to every cell. Where Fire transforms, Water binds, softens, and lubricates. Together they make Pitta: the fire needs water, or it simply burns everything, including itself.

It is stable, cold, heavy, smooth by nature. In balance, Water is what gives you emotional flow and physical suppleness. Out of balance, it either floods or evaporates.

How to recognise when Water is imbalanced

Water in excess: too much holding, not enough release

• Fluid retention, puffiness, swelling

• Excess mucus, congestion, oiliness in skin or hair

• Emotional heaviness: holding onto grudges, old grief, resentment

• Attachment and clinginess, difficulty letting go of people, outcomes, or old versions of yourself

• Over-lubricated emotions: crying easily, feeling everything at once

Water in depletion: not enough holding

• Dryness that pairs with Fire’s heat: dry eyes, dry mouth, joints that feel gritty

• Dehydration, both physical and emotional

• Difficulty forming or maintaining connection, a sense of isolation

• Emotional brittleness, a “flooding then nothing” pattern

• Inflammation that isn’t being cooled or soothed by anything

A question to ask yourself

Are you able to feel things and let them move through you? Are you holding too tight to either the feeling itself or your boundaries?

Inviting Pitta back into balance

Pitta responds to coolness, moderation, softness, unhurried rhythm. The way to tame the inner or outer critic is through sweetness and humour (believe me, I am surrounded by Pittas). Think of a fresh mountain stream on a hot day. It doesn’t need more fuel. It needs to be cooled and played with.

Immediately - cool and soften:

• Laugh!

• Sheetali or Sheetkari pranayama (the cooling breaths), if you know them

• Splash cool water on your wrists, face, or the back of your neck

• Step outside into shade or moonlight rather than pushing through (and please don’t go jogging in the midday heat)

• Pause and put down whatever you’re holding for two minutes (the argument, the task, the phone)

Short-term (over days):

• Coconut oil massage instead of sesame; cooling rather than warming

• Eat cooling, hydrating foods: cucumber, coconut, mint, leafy greens, ghee in moderation. Reduce caffeine, chilli, fried food, alcohol, and excess salt

• Swim, or at minimum, be near water

• Loosen the grip on achieving. Ask what “enough” would look like today

Longer-term (as a way of living):

• Build in unstructured time where nothing needs to be optimised or won

• Thank your inner critic and tell them to go sit and rest on a bench

• Practice receiving feedback and disagreement without it becoming a fight, internal or external

• Moonlight, moon salutations, or simply slowing down around the full moon

• Say no before you reach the point of resentment, rather than after

• Cool, unhurried mornings; a life with enough space that the fire doesn’t have to fight for air

• Sweet playful connections

Next time, we continue with Earth element and Kapha dosha.

If this one found you at the right moment, subscribe below so the next one does too. I am looking forward to hearing if this has landed for you.

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It had been four years since I moved to New Zealand, and two and a half years since I met my now-husband. We had just bought a house together, and I was starting to feel trapped by my job. I was good at it, I worked really hard to be good at it. One day my boss said: “You are doing so well. Five more years like this, and you could take my place.” It was meant to be a carrot. It didn’t feel like one. I felt my heart drop. I didn’t want what was on offer. Not now, not later. But I still had a mortgage to pay, and I was still an immigrant with things to prove.

That same year I started a yoga teacher training and discovered Ayurveda. I also had my endometriosis surgery and was told to think about having children sooner rather than later. I was starting to find some meaning outside of work, but the job was still such an enormous part of my life. Every evening I would come home from work absolutely drained. Weekends were spent in bed, recovering. This was not the life I wanted. I had to find the way out.

So I started teaching yoga in my free time. Self-studied Ayurveda and spent three years learning Vedic Astrology. I was finally trying to understand what I actually wanted. Who was I? What did I like?

This quest took me far and wide. At the ripe old age of 30, I did not want to waste time making the wrong choice. I was willing to pay anyone for the right answer. Astrologers, psychics, career consultants, more astrologers, tarot readers - I’ve been to all of them. Countless self-improvement courses too. They weren’t useless. They each gave me some grain of wisdom, but the results never lasted.

I didn’t hear what I wanted to hear.

I couldn’t hear what I needed to hear.

What truly helped were the week-long yoga retreats I took annually. Beautiful beach in New Zealand, very limited connection, yoga from 4am to 8pm. Cleansing practices, asanas, pranayama, meditation, kriyas, yoga nidra, kirtan. All day. Seven days straight. You don’t have much choice but to start facing your own preferences and aversions, tendencies and patterns. Some days are easy and full of hope. Others, I wanted to pack my bag, get in the car, and drive away from myself as fast as possible. I sat and witnessed my people-pleasing tendencies, my need to be liked, my fear of rejection to name a few. I finally had the chance to face myself and see if not all, but a lot: the good, the beautiful, the bad, the ugly.

I had heard so many times that all the answers are already within. I never truly got it. I kept searching for someone with more authority to tell me what to do with my life.

It took many external changes and even more internal ones to get to where I am today: a stint in recruitment, a persistent longing to work as an Ayurvedic practitioner, a move to a rural lifestyle block in the South Island, the loss that always comes with a major relocation, long-awaited pregnancies, and the total upheaval that is early motherhood.

But it was motherhood that taught me to slow down, listen and observe. It is just you and the groundhog day of looking after small children; you and your reactions, emotions, responses - all resurfacing after years of neglect. If you think about it, it is almost like one never-ending yoga retreat: with nowhere to go, but inward.

Observing and listening. Listening and observing. This has been my practice for the past five years.

I finally understand what it means when they say you already have all the answers. We do. But sometimes we’re not ready to accept them. Sometimes we need to sit down, get quiet, and listen. Listen to our hearts and observe whatever arises between the heartbeats.

I don’t have it all figured out. I still struggle to maintain a regular meditation practice. But I stopped searching for someone with authority on my own life. When in doubt, I get quiet. I listen, I write, I let things come up to the surface. The practice of observing without judgment might be the most underrated and the most difficult. Because what comes up when we get quiet is often exactly what we've been running from and running toward.

What is your go-to way of coming back to yourself?

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I don't know how to start this except to say: I've been carrying things for a very long time. Not just the children, not just the household, but the moods of rooms, the comfort of people around me, the quiet shapeshifting I do every day so no one has to feel uncomfortable. I got very good at it. And I never counted the cost.

A couple of weeks ago I found myself overtaken by a strange mix of feelings: nostalgia, melancholy, and the fear that I’d missed out on life. Upon closer examination I realised it was living in my belly and my chest like two big gaping wounds. That was grief. My body was feeling something I’d never given my conscious mind the time and space to feel. But it wasn’t a new feeling. In fact, it was extremely familiar. A constant presence in my teens and early twenties. The feeling I tried to escape through traveling, working 70-hour weeks, and drinking wine to unwind. And now it was back.

So this time I decided to let it take over my life (as much as possible while still looking after my family). It turns out my body was grieving the lightness I never experienced in my early years. The inability to be free: free of family dynamics, free of fears and anxieties, free of always thinking about consequences. You know that story of the ant and the dragonfly? The dragonfly dances all summer; the ant works to get ready for the upcoming winter. In the end, she has nowhere to live in winter, and he is prepared. I never got to be a carefree, dancing in the sunshine dragonfly. I was always the ant. But no one tells you what the ant misses: the joy of the moment!

Another thing I was grieving: never being chosen and seen by people in my life. I desperately wanted to be seen for who I was: by my parents, my family, my friends, my crushes. But I never really showed anyone my true self. Always adjusting my character, my looks, my temperament to make the people around me feel comfortable and calm. I did not do it on purpose. These were subconscious adjustments. A little tweak here, a little dial down there - and here you go! A whole new person, liked by almost everyone, connected to no one.

Motherhood did a funny thing. It stripped me of the need to perform, while simultaneously making me as invisible as it’s possible to be. So here I am, almost five years into mothering, with most of my pillars of identity crumbled, trying to figure out what’s next. Who am I when I can no longer be identified as the corporate girly, or the yoga teacher, or the woman who attended and facilitated yoga retreats? Who am I when my body is stretched and expanded, and my clothes haven’t yet adjusted to the new shape? Who am I when I look in the mirror first thing in the morning after another sleepless night?

Some days I feel like my only purpose is to make endless snacks and wash clothes on repeat. But I don’t want it to be so.

I started moving without purpose purely to get rid of this feeling: dancing, walking, shaking, weights. I don’t know when or how, but the grief shifted. It shifted into a realisation that I am the only one who can make myself visible, the only one who can choose me.

I want to be seen. Fully. Unapologetically.

By me. That’s where it starts.

I want to stand in my own being: firm and grounded, with my soul and my heart shining right through, illuminating the path ahead, for me and my children. I want to teach my children to listen to their hearts. I want to show them how a woman can love herself, imperfections and all. And most of all, I want to enjoy this. Being a human, a woman, a mother. All the messiness and sadness and wonder.

I want to live MY life in all its glory and taste everything it has to offer.

If these words touched something in you, I invite you to journal or stay with it on your next walk: Where in your life have you been adjusting yourself to make others comfortable? What would it feel like to stop pretending, just for one day?

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In 2023, while pregnant with my second child, I did a more formal study that took me 9 months. It began, accidentally, alongside my pregnancy. I did not miss the irony: learning how important a balanced diet is for a pregnant mother while all you want to eat is Shin ramen. Learning about balance while putting yourself last, looking after a toddler and a property.

I’ve always been drawn to cultures and knowledge coming from the East, maybe because I was born on the border between Europe and Asia. But I've always felt like a failure at it, unable to understand how to marry real life with the aspiring part of me who just wanted to live in a cave in the Himalayas and meditate all day. So I split myself into two: the "everyday" me and the "spiritual" me.

As you might have guessed, this stopped working once I became a mother. No more hour long practices, no perfect morning routines (they were never perfect anyway, but the aspiration was there). I had to fit spirituality into whatever was left: pranayama when breastfeeding, walking meditation to the letterbox, little prayer and gratitude when noticing something especially precious.

I realised that finding Beauty and Divinity in everyday mundane moments is just as glorious as a week-long retreat (although, I would still happily get away for a week one day)

I mentioned in the Notes , that Ayurveda together with my experience of Yoga have supported me through endometriosis diagnosis, struggle to conceive, and through both of my pregnancies and postpartum. I have an immense love and respect for it. But I also know how impractical it can be in modern life: Western societies do not favour slow, nature-focused ways of living.

This article offers general principles you can hold up against how you feel and what you can actually do in your reality. If you want an individual approach, please find a respected Ayurvedic practitioner who can look at your specific case.

Scientist have shown that we are the Universe, re-assembled. Elements and particles created by the big bang have made you and me. Ayurveda believes that we are made out of five elements: Earth, Water, Fire, Air and Ether. We all have them, but in various proportions and of various qualities. You particular mix was determined at the moment of conception. I’m sure all of us know people who are particularly fiery, grounded or wonderfully airy-fairy in their disposition.

Each of us has a different ground zero. With time, the Doshas (combinations of elements) go out of balance. Seasons, food, lifestyle all influence this. In fact, they love going out of balance. Too little, too much - always fluctuating.

Ether + Air = Vata dosha

Fire + Water = Pitta dosha

Water + Earth = Kapha dosha

Today I want to talk about the two elements that make Vata dosha: Air and Ether. These two go out of balance most easily, especially in modern life. Our world is fast, hot, and dry by nature. This is also particularly relevant for new mothers, who have an excess of Vata straight after birth, for highly sensitive people and women approaching or in menopause. The ways to bring both back into balance are similar, so I will discuss them together.

Ether - the Infinite Potential

Ether is Space. Space in your cells, in your lungs, in your uterus.

Because ether has no air it is still, because it has no fire it has no temperature, because it has no water, it is dry and because it has no earth, it is ungrounded and light. It has infinite potential because there is nothing else there, and that emptiness is what allows the body to be both unique and capable of change. At its base, the body is mostly ether.

How to recognise when Ether is imbalanced

Ether in excess can feel like too much space:

• Feeling uncontained, scattered, like you don’t have boundaries, physical or otherwise

• Oversensitivity to sound

• Difficulty landing in the body: feeling spacey, forgetful

• Racing or looping thoughts without the ability to settle

• Feeling like you’re too porous, absorbing everyone else’s energy without a filter

• Sleep disturbances

Ether in depletion or blocked, not enough space:

• Feeling suffocated, contracted, or trapped, with no inner room to breathe

• Difficulty receiving compliments, help, rest, love: literally no space for it

• Creative or expressive block: feeling like there’s nothing inside, or no way out for what’s inside

• An inability to sit in silence without anxiety

• Stiffness or holding patterns in the body that don’t release with physical work alone

A question to ask yourself

Do you have enough inner space for your life to open up to you and within you?

For me, Ether imbalance feels like I am everywhere and nowhere at once. Like I am moving through life without noticing it.

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Air - the Movement within you

Air is movement. Everything that moves in the body carries the element of Air: the rhythm of your digestion, the circulation of your blood, the rise and fall of your breath. Without Air, nothing flows.

It is cold, dry, light, mobile and rough by nature. When it is in excess, you feel those qualities everywhere: dry skin, dry joints, a mind that won’t stop moving, a body that can’t seem to warm up.

How to recognise when Air is imbalanced

Air in excess: too much movement, not enough stillness

In the body:

• Dryness everywhere: skin, lips, eyes, joints, hair, digestion.

• Bloating, gas, constipation that alternates with loose stools. In other words, variable, irregular digestion

• Restlessness: the body wants to move even when exhausted

• Light, interrupted sleep

• Cold hands and feet that don’t warm easily

• Joints that click and crack, muscles that twitch or tremor

In the mind:

• Thoughts that race or loop without resolution

• Decision paralysis: too many options, hard to make a choice

• Anxiety without a clear cause, feeling of overwhelm

• Forgetting things mid-sentence, scattered attention

Air in depletion: not enough movement

• Rigidity: physically stiff, mentally fixed, unable to adapt

• Sluggish digestion with a sense of things simply not moving through

• Emotional flatness: the wind has gone out entirely

• Difficulty initiating anything, no impulse, no momentum

• Breathing that is shallow and held rather than freely moving

A question to ask yourself

Does your life feel like it has a steady rhythm or is it erratic and overwhelming?

If you feel you are always trying to catch up, barely keeping your head above water - Air needs tending.

Inviting Vata back into balance

Vata responds to warmth, weight, stillness, sensory anchoring. Think of a delicate ethereal flower on a cold autumn day. It needs attention, protection and warmth.`

Immediately - breath and warmth:

• Hum. Lips together, jaw relaxed. Even couple minutes while waiting for your kettle to boil. The vibration allows for energy to settle

• Bhramari or Nadi Shodhana pranayama, if you know them

• Place both feet flat on the floor and press down. Feel ground beneath you or, better still, walk outside barefoot

• Hold something warm in your hands: a cup of tea, a stone left in the sun, a warm cat or child

Short-term (over days):

• Warm oil massage before your shower (even just your feet and hands or belly with sesame oil). This is one of the most direct Vata grounding practice in classical Ayurveda

• Eat warm, cooked, oiled food. Use ghee, cooked root vegetables, slow-cooked grains. Vata imbalance thrives on cold, raw, and rushed

• Chant or sing

• Reduce the inputs: consume less content, allow your nervous system to rest

Longer-term (as a way of living):

• Bookend your day with a simple morning and evening rhythm, done in the same order each day. Repetition is grounding. Vata needs a groove to rest into

• Limit fasting, skipping meals, and eating on the go. These are small acts of un-grounding that accumulate

• Yoga Nidra. Again allowing the body to rest and settle

• Sleep before 10pm where you can. The quality of rest you get before midnight is different from after

• Warm baths, warm home, warm food, warm people

If you takeaway one thing from this long post, please may it be this: like attracts like; opposites bring balance. The logic is very simple: if you are feeling unmoored, cold, and scattered, you invite the opposite: warmth, stillness and grounding.

Next time, we continue with Water and Fire.

If this one found you at the right moment, subscribe below so the next one does too. I am looking forward to hearing if this has landed for you.

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I have a confession to make: I never felt connected to my body. It is a good body! There is nothing wrong with it, and I think I am very lucky to have been born into it. But I always viewed it as a hindrance, at least subconsciously. Why do I need my body if all I want to is escape: into meditation, another book, delicious meal or sound of the ocean. I have always processed the world through my mind. Until I had kids.

Let`s be honest, I had no choice. Pregnancy, childbirth, and breastfeeding really do ground you into your physical form. It took me by surprise when I saw my body recently, really saw it, as if for the first time. Childbearing leaves a big mark: not extra fat or stretchmarks, but in a visible result of living on this planet in this body for a number of years. The changed shape of the breasts after breastfeeding. The hips different from years of carrying children on them. The rounded back from trying to protect myself, or others. The beginnings of small marks on my face — little riverbeds carved by years of the same expressions. The list goes on. And you don’t have to be a mother of course. Your body keeps a record regardless. We just need to learn to read it.

So it made me wonder: if my body was a home, have I really been living in it? The answer, I think, is that I have just moved in. For most of my life, I was a tenant: polite, respectful and selfish.

I started noticing where emotions live: anger in my jaws, worries in my lower belly, excitement in my chest. I started noticing how food affects how I feel: too much sugar or caffeine brings me down. (Which is very disappointing, because few things I love more than a hot drink with something baked.)

Here is the interesting part: the more I listen, the more I soften into compassion toward myself. This body has carried me through a lot, and it tried telling me so, for years. I just wasn't present enough to hear.

So I want to reflect and I’d like you to come with me, if you will. If your body was a home, what would it feel like? What does it smell like? Is it bright and full of sunlight, or are some corners covered in cobwebs? Is it surrounded by a garden or a dense forest? Are the rooms spacious or small and cluttered? Are there areas that need repair? Does it feel like someone lives there or is it empty?

Have you unpacked your bags yet?

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If something in this resonated, I'd love to know what you found. Just hit reply. I read everything.

I am a Pisces with Cancer ascendant and Aquarius Moon. If that means nothing to you, don’t worry. What I’m trying to say is: it’s not my fault I’m allergic to routines. It’s in my natal chart.

I was doing fine in the corporate world: deadlines and constant emergencies kept me organised. But after becoming a mum, structuring my days took time. Kids don’t care about being polite or on time. Housework is never finished. You tidy the house, and within minutes the surfaces are covered with cups and lego as if by magic.

Slowly, and rather painfully, I had to find a way to keep things in order without losing myself or quality time with my children in the process. I tried schedules. I tried apps. I love buying planners and notebooks, but use them mainly for journaling or writing endless to-do lists.

What I started doing instead, almost by instinct, was creating rhythms for our daily life. Allowing space for wonder, but also for meltdowns, “dontwantto” and “i do it myself even if it takes me 20 minutes to get into the car” moments.

Then I read Simplicity Parenting by Kim John Payne. It didn’t teach me anything new in a ground-breaking sort of way, but named what I’d already been living and gave it more structure.

The book is mainly about children, but it can be applied to anyone. We don’t need more things or a 12-step morning routine to be happy. We need space to focus on what matters and what brings joy to ordinary life.

The formula is simple: less things and established rhythms create predictability, which regulates the nervous system. A regulated nervous system, free of clutter, creates space for wonder and magic. Not the dramatic kind, but the kind where you notice the afternoon light or where your child says something funny and you actually hear it.

Here’s an example of what it might look like:

If Monday is always pasta day, you eliminate a hundred dinner decisions. And you can still be inventive in the kitchen should you choose.

If your kids know you always wash hands after coming inside, one day they’ll do it without being asked.

If you have three dresses instead of fifteen, choosing one is easy.

You get the idea.

Routines require discipline. Rhythms need repetition without perfection.

Children thrive in safe free environments. So do our nervous systems and our creativity. We just need to create a simple container and trust it.

Life doesn’t become boring when you have less and live by rhythm. It becomes simple enough that magic has somewhere to land.

My kids fall asleep in 10 minutes now. Months of the same simple rhythm, and one day it just worked.

What rhythms are already working for you? (I collect those)

Where and how would you like to create more space?

I'd love to know. Hit reply, or sit with it in your journal. Either way, it's worth exploring.

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If you look at my Substack history, you will notice that I don`t post regularly. Or at least, I didn’t used to. Same with the rest of my routines - I pick them up in a moment of hyperfixation or through someone telling me I should be doing it, I commit to them, I abandon them. Then comes the guilt.(“Why do I always do this?”) Then new routines, same cycles.

This was until I finally understood that I am influenced by cycles (cycles of nature, as well as my own menstrual cycle). We all know that week of PMS is hard, or the first few days of your period can be challenging for some and unbearable for others. (Hello to fellow endometriosis sufferers! More on that another time.)

As we get older, hormones shape us more than we are told to expect. Rearing two children in two years, breastfeeding for five, and now entering a perimenopausal age, I definitely feel it.

Some weeks I feel like I can set the world ablaze. Others, all I want to do is to become a burrito of sadness, cuddled up in my blanket with my cat. My fuse shortens, my playfulness diminishes, my output changes, and of course, guilt is never far.

I fought it for years: multiple versions of the routines, various planners, books on how to be productive, you name it! I really thought something was wrong with me. Until I considered a ridiculous thought:

What if it isn’t me, it’s them!?

Just hear me out: what if we are fine just as we are? All we need to do is learn to listen to ourselves and adjust our life to flow together with what our hearts desire.

I know, I know, it is easier said than done. The kids still need to be cared for or the jobs still need to get done. And of course, the corporate world is not slowing down for you and your cycles. But we can only control what we can control.

So I approach it with having “up” and “down” weeks. UP weeks are full of creative ideas and energy to ground them into action. DOWN weeks have sick children and/or hormones taking over. You`ll know the difference!

The draft for the post you are reading right now has been created a few weeks ago when I had lots of energy (as much energy as a sleep deprived mother of two can have) I created all my drafts in one week, so when I feel tired and useless all I need to do is edit and publish. And even this takes me much longer on a slow week.

The same applies to housekeeping and cooking. Decluttering, big garden projects, new ambitious recipes are done on UP weeks. Basic maintenance, familiar meals, as much as possible alone quiet time and cosy reading with chocolate is “down” weeks medicine.

I wonder: are all women operating like this, and I didn’t get the memo? Because if I didn’t know, then maybe someone else is still pushing themselves to meet energetic consistency of their male partner, and wondering why it isn’t working?

Does your cycle influence you, your creativity, your patience, your desire to even be around people? If you’ve never tracked it, I wonder what you’d find.

And if you’ve always known this and you’ve been living in rhythm with yourself for years, I want to hear that too.

Either way: I’m glad you’re here.

There once was a woman who lived among lakes, and she thought she was a lake. She acted like a lake, thought like a lake, behaved like a lake. She kept her waves very small, so no one would see them. So no one would worry.

Sometimes she felt full, still, calm - just like all the other lakes around her. On those days she felt like she knew where she belonged and what her path was. On other days she felt empty, restless, agitated, even angry. Like something was wrong with her specifically. Like all the other lakes knew something she did not.

Why couldn’t she be always calm, always still, always full?

One day she could no longer pretend to be a lake. Pretending seemed worse than the unknown of who she truly was.

That day she saw a full Moon in the sky. Feeling hopeless, she asked the Moon for help: “Please, Moon, can you show me who I really am? I can`t be like this anymore. Always changing. Always flowing. Never myself.”

The Moon laughed its silvery laugh. “But I change too,” she said. “I go from full and bright to gone from the sky entirely. And no one thinks there is something wrong with me for it.” She advised the Woman to sit quietly, observe and listen.

Over and over, for weeks and then months, the Woman did just that. She would sit and close her eyes. Some days she lasted two minutes before her mind ran off. Some days she sat so long she forgot what time it was. She kept returning to stillness. That was the only instruction: coming back.

After many months, the Woman realised she was ebbing and flowing just like the Moon. Some days: full of power, unstoppable. Some days: invisible, quiet.

Then she started hearing something new - waves crashing into the shore. The sound of her internal tide.

Could it be that she was not a lake, but an Ocean? Not too much. Not broken. Just tidal.

After that realisation, the Woman changed the rhythms of her existence. She no longer was pretending to be a Lake, but lived according to her tides. She stepped into her full presence when power rose. She rested within her emptiness when it ebbed. And sometimes, on quiet nights, she came outside to talk to the Moon and let its silver light guide her tide.

This post is for the times when your heart feels heavy and your body needs rest, but your brain is trying to run 1000km/h, resulting in you moving through your days like a sad or angry blob of goo.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, please close this and go live your happy life.

If it sounds familiar - please keep reading.

Autumn is the time of year where most of us start to feel the imbalances in our lives. It shows up differently for everyone: lack of sleep, nervous energy, anxiety, restlessness, fatigue, excess weight, back pains, digestive issues.

In Ayurveda, we are stepping into Vata season - dry, moving, rough. If you are noticing dry skin, constipation, anxiety or insomnia, it means there is an excess of Vata in your body.

One of the main principles of Ayurveda is:

LIKE INCREASES LIKE. OPPOSITE QUALITIES BRING BALANCE.

So to come back to balance, we need to add stillness, hydration inside and out, and we need to slow down and do less.

After our Easter weekend with 3 easter egg hunts, overstimulated children, daylight saving, and everything else in between, I know I need to treat myself like a gentle flower. And I`m extending the same invitation to you.

It will look different for each of us, depending on our lives, but here are a few suggestions:

• Routine, routine, routine! Vata and our nervous systems LOVE predictability.

• Consistent sleep times. Go to bed and wake up at the same time every day.

• Warm nourishing meals three times a day. Skip the snacking. Think soups, stews, porridges - moist and grounding. (I`ve been making a healthier version of apple crumble for breakfast lately, and it has been a hit with the children!)

• Warm bath with salt to wash the day off.

• Warm oil massage (do it yourself or ask your partner)

• Be ruthless with your plans and commitments. Gentle flower, remember?

Slow, steady and warm. And wherever you can - make it beautiful!

(By the way, if you are in the Northern hemisphere, here is one of my articles about Kapha season and Springtime.)

I turned 39 last month, and I realized I have been self-sabotaging my entire life. Like, WTactualF? For decades, I have been making "hard pivots" while standing on the very edge of success—changing careers, cities, and countries right at the moment I should have committed. To be fair, those paths weren’t my calling; they were just ways to make money. But still, I became dangerously good at starting from scratch just before stepping into leadership.

What finally forced me to look at this blind spot was an argument with my husband. I suddenly realized that at almost 40, with two little kids, I have no "official" means to exist without him. I have been staying at home with my children for over four years now. So, here I am, trying to figure it all out again.

I’ve been slowly making my way through The Mountain Is You by Brianna Wiest. It’s a small book about self-sabotage, but it’s taking me ages because every page requires a long, honest look at myself. It isn't always easy between making meals, navigating bedtimes, and other fun things we mums do daily.

What I’ve discovered is a deep-seated fear of being visible. I have spent my life adapting to fit my environment. In a corporate office, you’d never know I love the "subtle world," talk about chakras way too much, and own over twenty sets of oracle cards. This adaptability bought me acceptance, but it cost me my identity. Add a dash of people-pleasing, and I found myself living a life that wasn't mine.

But do not worry for me; it isn't all that tragic. Today, you can find me on a four-hectare piece of land in rural-ish New Zealand with my two amazing kids and a "superman" of a husband. While I sit and contemplate the "why" of it all, he has been busy planting over a thousand trees—a literal forest waiting to grow around us.

I am the thinker; he is the doer. And yet, by writing this Substack, I am finally "doing" something for myself.

I’m writing this from my office—a precious sanctuary for the “alone time” that keeps me sane. Before I chose this beautiful, messy family life, I seriously considered moving to an ashram in the Himalayas. The need for stillness never left me. I’m sitting at an expensive mid-century modern desk I bought during my first maternity leave (a delusional “baby purchase” if there ever was one), surrounded by books I intend to read and projects I intend to start.

So here I am: taking up space, saying what I want to say, and hoping to be heard.

Here you can expect me to talk about:

• Reflections on life’s eternal questions and honest self-inquiry.

• Musings on rest and finding the path back to our own hearts.

• Notes on self-acceptance and moving through this strange world with kindness.

• Occasional fairy-tales for us women in a modern world

• Recorded Yoga Nidras to help you settle into the calm

I am not an expert; I am figuring it out as I go. If you want a friend on this journey, please stay - you are very welcome just as you are.

I would like to leave you with one of my favourite quotes from Oscar Wilde:

"With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy?”

I hope you are happy with the space you are taking in this world.

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What I do know is that we can co-create our lives with the Universe (God/ Goddess/ All There Is - or anything you believe in).

It seems like the world is going insane, doesn`t it? Sometimes I I wonder if having children is an act of madness. What future do they have? And yet…I consider having children my biggest and best contribution to this world. I am the happiest I have ever been.

It is a strange position to be in - wars, genocide, famine, sufferings of children everywhere… and then there is my backyard.

Sometimes it is hard to be fully present, savour the moment, because I know so many are going through the toughest time of their lives. The awareness can bring fear, anxiety, guilt for not doing enough, not changing enough.

Every time, I return to one simple truth I have learnt through years of studying Vedic knowledge: you can love the world and others in it only as much as you love your self. So I return to simplicity of self love.

Now…the phrase “self-love” has almost become corrupted over the last few decades. Let me clarify what I mean. It is not about a bath, a Frappuccino, or buying anything. To me self-love is about stripping away what’s unnecessary, quieting the mind, stopping in the moment and really, REALLY listening to your heart.

What do you want? What do you need?

For me it is the journey of remembering my whole self. So if I am happy and whole, maybe I can raise children who feel content and whole, and then they can raise children that are content and whole. Maybe, just maybe, this is the way I leave this planet a little better than I have found it.

It is not easy, and I have to remind myself over and over and over again about self-love, self-worth, compassion and grace.

Some days, I need rest. Some days, my body needs movement. Some days, I need to scream and express all my frustrations without fear of being inconvenient. Some days, I notice my self-sabotaging patterns; other days I drop “the story” or excuses I have been giving myself to justify choices that weren`t right.

Self-love is not all rainbows and butterflies; it is about meeting your Self just as you are. It does not always feel nice, but it is always beautiful.

I try to teach myself and my children that we are powerful beings. Even if most things are out of our control, we can change our perspective and change our circumstances. “If you don’t like something - change it” - I am known to say.

Listening to the whispers of my heart has served me well. Leaving Russia in 2013 to move to New Zealand. Leaving Auckland in 2020 to go live in a small rural area. Those choices were not easy, and the changes they brought were not always easy to accept. but my life has been richer for them.

I guess, what I am trying to say is, that I am immensely grateful for my life and the choices I have made along the way (along with plenty of mistakes). I will continue listening to my heart to the best of my ability and refuse to let the world consume me.

If anything, I think we need to do the opposite of what so many people are doing. We need to slow down, ground ourselves, create instead of consume, see each day through the lens of love despite the fear, and watch where this journey takes us. I want a world full of stories, art, wonder, and whimsy. Please, Universe, let it be so!

These words have spilled from my heart after circling there for a while. If you have thoughts of your own, please do reply, I would love to have a discussion.

How do you nurture yourself on hard days?

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The Sun, on the other hand, was excited to be tucked into the Night Sky’s bed, leaving the Moon to watch over those busy kids. The Children put on their pyjamas, brushed their teeth, washed their little faces, and snuggled in with the parents after asking for, what seemed like a thousand sips of water. It had been another wonderful busy day for the Sun: dodging Clouds, making rainbows with the Rain, helping tomatoes grow and drying birds` feathers after their bath. Don't forget an important job of signaling to the Children when to wake up, have lunch or go to bed.

As the Moon watched over them, the Children took comfort in pressing into their Mums soft, warm body and hugging their Teddys tight. It felt safe and familiar. Perhaps Mummy was like a smaller version of the Moon, always watching over them, while Daddy felt like the Sun, guiding them: small versions of the Sun and the Moon who existed just for them. With that comforting thought, they smiled and drifted off to sleep, whispering to Mummy that they weren’t even that tired.

Hello Friend!

It has been a while since I`ve met you in your inbox.

I did not mean to disappear, but I found the months of November - December to be beautiful but also very challenging. We`ve been through birthdays, toilet training, teething, sleep regressions. On top of it life on land is rather busy during springtime here in New Zealand - trying to get some veggies growing, looking after chickens and their desire to make a ton of cute lil chicks, building fences, planting trees. I am sure you can relate - the list of jobs is always endless. Something had to give, and this time it was my creative expression in a form of Substack.

However, I want to assure you, I did not abandon my time for myself. I started going to pilates on the weekends. Spending an hour or two in the morning by myself outside the house did wonders for my mental wellbeing!

I hope you have been looking after yourself, and your December was full of warm relationships and delicious food.

Over the holidays my daughter turned 1, which means it has been a year since I have become a mother of two humans. Peanut (her nickmame) is growing up to be the most wonderful little girl, full of smiles and sass.

This milestone also means that it is time for me to start climbing out of my maternity leave bubble. I don`t have a job to go back to, and I haven`t worked since having my son, which was over 3 years ago. To be honest with you, I have no desire to return to the corporate environment, so I am really focusing on gaining clarity around what is it I want to do. One thing is certain - as any mom, I need flexibility to be able to spend as much time with my kids as possible.

I go from considering a casual job in a bookstore or a bakery to thinking about monetizing my passion for the occult (Yoga, Ayurveda, astrology and all other modalities that I have been studying for a while). I have been thinking about the latter option for a very VERY long time, but never found courage to take the leap.

Have you changed your career paths since becoming a mother or for any other reasons? I feel like it is a very natural thing to do, because motherhood is such a huge internal and external shift. Especially if you have not been attached to your vocation previously. Or are you one of those people who wanted to be someone since you were a little girl, and nothing will ever change that? I am very interested, so please leave me a comment or reply to this email if you have something to share on the topic.

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My daughter woke up from her nap, so I will publish this newsletter now.

But before I go, I wanted to update you on what to expect from me. My intention is to commit to a weekly newsletter on the topics ranging from my areas of interest mentioned above, being spirituality in various forms, to my experience of motherhood and a beginner homesteader. I hope you stay with me. Anyways, thank you for reading!

Here are a few pics from this summer.

With love,

Polina.

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Hello, Friend!

I find the last few weeks have been quite challenging for a few of us. Maybe it is eclipse season or Saturn in retrograde or your 3 year old son going through separation with you after finally weaning or your 9 month old daughter learning new skills and letting you sleep only 4 hours a night - who`s to say?

I find that times of transition are not always easy to move through. Springtime is no exception.

Today I would like to talk to you about Kapha season - mid-winter to late spring. As you know, Ayurveda places great importance on living according to the seasons. It is referred to as Ritucharya - regimes for the seasons.

It is very easy to become stagnant in winter. Overindulging in heavier foods, more sugar, less movement can result in excess weight, mucus and toxins (called Ama) in thoughts and body. Kapha is cold, heavy, slow. It is described as a combination of Earth and Water elements. So imagine what happens if you have too much earth in a river- it becomes a swamp.

As the spring progresses, warmer days and nights bring the elements of Pitta - Water and Fire. What happens to our little swamp if we add too much sun? It becomes depleted, dry, filled with muck. This muck or toxins or Ama can show itself as inflammation in the body: seasonal allergies, hay fever, skin issues, chest infections etc.

The best way to tend to you body is to do seasonal gentle detoxes around the spring equinox or just before summer is here.

First step of the detox is always taking out the rubbish that we know we don`t need, saying NO to things that are not serving well. It will be different for everyone. For me it is caffeine. Hard to say no to coffee when the sleep is practically non-existent. Maybe for you it is sleeping too much or skipping your workouts or watching too many youtube videos before bed.

One of the main principles of Ayurevda is:

LIKE INCREASES LIKE. OPPOSITE QUALITIES BRING BALANCE.

We want to bring in the opposite qualities to Kapha - warmth and lightness.

We can do that by adding nourishment:

• Bringing more sweetness into your life via cooked root veggies, grains, nuts, seeds, warm relationships and sweet embraces.

• Drinking ginger tea during the day to enhance digestion and remove Ama.

• Including ginger, turmeric, cardamom, cinnamon, pepper into your cooking.

Also remember to check in with your daily habits:

• Wake up early, before Kapha time that begins around 6am

• Practice self-massage, which brings in self-compassion as well as allows our lymphatic system to move out the toxins

• Make lunch the biggest meal of the day to aid digestion

• Avoid snacking between meals

• Stay warm

• Take warm bath in the evening to sooth your mind and body (but avoid hot showers!)

Walk after dinner. Perhaps even make it a family thing!

Here is a wonderful spring recipe from a book by Claire Ragozzino “Living Ayurveda” Grapefruit with honey and cardamom.

On a more personal note:

My son is going through a transition of his own, what I perceive as separation. For three years he has been intensely attached to me: always breastfeeding, co-sleeping since 4 months old, allowing only me to put him to sleep. Then one day he just didn`t seem to need me as much anymore. As a matter of fact, he went to the polar opposite side of the spectrum - pushing me away. I do understand that it is necessary. At the end of the day, I do not want him to be dependent on me forever. But my mother`s heart is hurting. My little boy is growing up. Soon he will be a stinky teenager and then he will move out into the big wide world. He will make mistakes and, hopefully, learn from them. This thought feels very heavy at the moment.

If you are a mum to an older child, please tell me that it gets better.

I would like to share one of my favourite poems about being a parent. It is from a book by Kahlil Gibran, called The Prophet. If you are not familiar with it, I urge you to read it!

I will leave you here.

I would love to know how you navigate transitions in your life?

Hoping that October (spring or autumn) brings you nourishment and peace.

As always, thank you for reading!

Polina.

Wiggle (his in-utero nickname) did not plan to come out on his own. In the last 2 weeks of pregnancy I was getting cross with every ewe on our property that gave birth overnight while I was just getting bigger and bigger. I was over 42 weeks pregnant when we had to go to the hospital for an induction. My vision of a pregnancy without interventions melted away.

My favourite memory of that day was me and my husband walking around cherry blossom trees between the rounds of induction drugs - last moments of peace before things picked up rapidly. After hours of very intense labour it turned out Wiggle was breech, so we made a decision to continue with emergency C-section - the opposite of my labour plan.

After nine months of carrying him, two years of trying to conceive him, and 5 years of holding him in my heart he was here - my darling son. He was big and he was beautiful, and he looked like me. The next day I asked my husband if he also thought that I gave birth to the most gorgeous baby in the world. Oh, the hormones!

I do not think that you have to become a parent to feel purposeful in this life, but it was true for me. In my late 20s I was seriously considering a life of spiritual pursuits, and I did not make a decision to commit myself to raising children lightly. Now I can`t imagine it being any other way.

For the past three years we have been learning together how to exist in this world in our new roles. It has been hard and it has been absolutely amazing.

Wiggle is very gentle and sensitive, yet determined and particular. I did not think that you could give birth to a perfectionist, but here he is. He will draw a digger as many times as needed to make sure that the picture matches his vision. He loves sharing his food. He is very tactile but only on his terms. He loves planting trees with daddy, doing puzzles, snuggling with mummy and screaming into his sister`s face while making her laugh.

I can`t wait to see what the future holds for him while simultaneously wanting to freeze time. Motherhood is a journey of duality, having to constantly find balance while swinging through the spectrum of emotions. The road is full of fear, anxiety, stress, despair, exhilaration, joy, kindness, forgiveness and, most importantly, love. Motherhood showed me the various forms of love: all-encompassing love for my children, compassionate love for my parents, ever-changing love for my husband and blossoming love for myself.

If you wish to share anything about your motherhood journey, feel free to hit reply! I would love to hear from you.

If you are still waiting for the time when you can hold your baby in your arms, I hope you experience it soon while being gentle with yourself in the meantime!

If you don`t want to have children, I hope you enjoy and appreciate the ability to get into your car and drive anywhere you want.

As always, thank you for reading!

Polina.

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I hope this newsletter has found you happy and healthy! If you have children, I hope they are mucus free and sleeping well.

I can`t tell you how happy I am to move into spring ( i am based in Southern hemisphere). The days are longer, the kids will stop being sick any day now, the trees are starting to bloom and there is an abundance of cute lambs around.

Last month we went on our first holiday as a family of four. It was so much fun that we decided to go home a day earlier. Booking a hotel room with 2 kids was not the smartest decision. The idea was to avoid cooking and doing dishes. In reality I didn`t talk to my husband for a whole week. I mainly spent it trying to get my 7 month old to sleep and then hushing at everyone who dared to make a sound. On the bright side, my toddler saw snow for the first time and it was magical.

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I would like to try a new format of the newsletter. Every month (around new moon) I will introduce a new ayurvedic routine or yogic term that we can focus on. I also would like to talk about books I am reading, Substacks I am loving or music I am listening - whatever feels nice. Feedback is always welcome!

Routine of the month - Tongue scraping

I have been scraping my tongue every morning for over 7 years now. It is the easiest habit to implement, because it feels really good. As a matter of fact, I don`t know anyone who tried it and didn`t stick with it (except for my husband, *eye-roll*)

You can generally tell if our body is feeling healthy by the way your tongue looks. If it is pink, clear and smooth it means all is well. Looking after the tongue is an easy way to heal the body on a daily basis. Tongue scarping is a simple and effective daily detox. So I encourage you to give it a try.

Start paying attention to your tongue in the morning before drinking anything. Usually there is a coating. The thickness of this coating will tell you how much toxins (ama) there is in your body. Scraping your tongue will remove the coating of accumulated ama from your tongue first thing in the morning. This gentle, repeated scraping also gently massages the internal organs, bringing in fresh blood supply.

Watch as you scrape your tongue. You’ll see changes in colour and texture of your tongue as you go through the process. You’ll also see changes as you change your diet and lifestyle.

Practice:

• Brush teeth first, then scrape tongue

• Do it first thing after waking up, so your body does not have time to reabsorb the toxins

• Use a copper tongue scraper

• Only do it once a day in the morning

• AFTER brushing your teeth, rinse your mouth. Place the tongue scraper at the back of the tongue and gently draw it forward. Apply only light pressure to the scraper. Rinse the scraper. Repeat the process on the right side of the tongue and then the left side. Go back to the middle and do it again. Continue for 3-4 rounds, rinsing the scraper between each scrape

Easy!

Book of the month

I don`t read a lot of fiction these days. I find non-fiction is a little bit easier to manage with limited time supply.

Raising a toddler sometimes leaves me feeling absolutely lost, because I just don`t know how to handle some situations. I am a very gentle parent, allowing children to lead the way. However, I do not want to raise entitled brats. This book seems to promote a good balance of gentle parenting and firm boundaries. I am only half-way through the book, but I am enjoying it a lot!

P.S. apologies if the formatting is off. I am trying to finish this newsletter during bedtime madness :)

Tell me what are you reading this September? Do you have any goals or intentions for this month or the upcoming season? I would love to know!

As always, thank you for reading!

Polina.

They can be a blessing and a curse. They offer predictability, familiarity, reduce stress, but they are also, well…, boring. In my experience, sticking to a strict routine does not account for fluctuating energy levels. Some days are simply harder than others. While I admire people who can push through regardless, I am not one of those people. Over the years I have learnt to make sure I take time to rest and have frequent breaks to avoid burnout. Life still gets in the way, of course, especially with little children, but I try.

I am always on the lookout for ways to organise my days, weeks, months to accommodate my eternal to-do list, as well as my changeable energy. One method that has been particularly helpful is “ayurvedic clock” - a unique perspective on daily energy cycles. This is what this post is about, so please read on.

I am also very keen to hear from you about routines that you find helpful.

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In Ayurveda there are 6 parts of the day, governed by a dosha (or a combination of elements), where certain qualities are more evident. I try to harness those qualities to work with me and my to-do list. (There is an abundance of information online about the doshas, but I will try to make a post about them one day :)

6am-10am ⟶ Kapha Time

Kapha dosha consists of Earth and Water elements, and its qualities are heavy, cool and slow. You might have noticed that if you wake up late, you feel sluggish and groggy - this is heaviness of Kapha. So it is advisable to wake up at 6am at the latest. Generally, it is a great time to ground into your day -plan your to-do list, perhaps schedule some catchups or meetings, and get the kids out the door.

10am-2pm ⟶ Pitta Time

Pitta dosha, which combines elements of Water and Fire, brings qualities of heat, sharpness and clarity. Pitta governs digestion, so it is the best time to digest food (lunch being the biggest meal of the day), knowledge and to-do lists. This is when I try to do the main bulk of my work (whatever it might be for the day), including things that require focus and energy.

2pm-6pm ⟶ Vata Time

Vata dosha, a combination of Air and Ether, is characterised by light, airy, and dry qualities. This time is ideal for creative tasks and finding inspiration. It’s also a good time for light, fun activities and grounding snacks to counterbalance Vata’s airy nature. I find this period excellent for connecting with others and engaging in creative pursuits.

6pm-10pm ⟶ Kapha Time

As the day winds down, Kapha’s heaviness returns. This is a time to embrace relaxation and limit heavy meals and snacks. I am trying to replace my “kids are asleep, I need a treat” chocolate with dates and almond butter (delicious!). This time is best spent connecting with family and engaging in calming activities such as warm bath, reading, journaling, or meditating. I know, in reality this time is often spent trying to get dinner on the table and then wrestling kids to bed, but you get an idea!

10pm-2am ⟶ Pitta Time

Evening Pitta time is for processing the day’s events and preparing the body for rest. Ideally, going to sleep by 10pm allows for recovery and rejuvenation. I practice an occasional reverse sleep-in when I feel exhausted, which means I go to sleep shortly after the kids. I always feel better the next morning.

2am-6am ⟶ Vata Time

In the early morning, Vata time is characterised by a focus on moving information through the body. Have you noticed waking up at around 2am if you feel stressed? This is because there wasn`t enough time to digest the day. This time is excellent for easier wake ups and is great for solitary creative activities like journaling and writing, (if you can manage to do them before the kids get up).

While modern life often disrupts our natural rhythms, aligning our routines with these principles can make our days run more smoothly. By adjusting my schedule (or trying to) to fit these energy cycles, I find that I can better manage my time and energy. I’d love to hear how you incorporate routines into your lives and manage your energy fluctuations. Share your tips and experiences!

If you found it interesting, feel free to send me a DM, and I will reply with a daily schedule according to your Dosha.

As always, thank you for reading!

If you ever find yourself asking “Why am I here?” or “What am I supposed to do in this life?” or “Is this it?”, you are not alone.

Becoming a mother changed my perception of life. On one hand, I have never felt more purposeful: my whole existence is aimed at loving and nurturing my kids. On the other hand, I have never felt so lost. Being born as a mother erased the pillars my whole identity has been standing on for 30 odd years. I know I am more than a mother, but I don`t know what that “more” entails.

It is in the moments of doubt that I turn to Ayurveda (“ayur” = life, “veda” = knowledge or science). It literally means the knowledge of life, and it never disappoints.

According to Ayurveda, human journey is the four birthrights: Dharma, Artha, Kama and Moksa.

Dharma is a certain set of duties only you can perform. This is exactly why you are here. It could be raising your kids or writing from your heart or chasing butterflies or all of the above. Whatever it might be, you will be inevitably drawn to it throughout your whole life. It is your birthright to do it, without listening to what other people or society tell you.

Artha can be described as “acquirement of wealth”, and it is also your birthright. Doing what you are here to do and being provided for by the Universe. In words of my Teacher: “If and when you are acting from Dharma, all else will come. There is no need to fear, no need to doubt. Do your work.”

Kāma is fulfilment of your desires. It flows from the previous two. Do your work, be supported and you will have the ability to enjoy your journey.

Mokśa is freedom or self-realisation. It is emancipation from the illusions of this life and stepping onto the path of bliss, contentment and peace.

So, my dear Friend, your purpose is to be You! Being happy, held, content and at peace is your birthright!

By daring to drop the limiting stories we tell ourselves and embracing our true selves, we not only transform our own lives, but change the world our children live in.

Do you allow your Self to shine through?

If you like to learn more about Ayurvedic philosophy, please subscribe. Throughout next month I will be issuing weekly(ish) posts, diving into this fascinating subject.

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As always, thank you for reading.

And a special hello to my Dad, who reads this essay with a Google translator.

I love you!

Polina.