For those that donโt know, I used to live full-time in my van for nearly 4 years. After meeting my ex-partner in the Cotswolds in August 2024, I started planting roots around Cirencester and built a business teaching Kundalini yoga, nervous system work and healing. Then in December 2025, after our relationship ended, I went to Morocco to figure out what was next for me. Part of me thought about going back to Manchester. Part of me thought about fully returning to van life again. No ties. No agenda. But underneath all of that was a deeper feelingโฆ that it was time to create a base. Somewhere to land. Somewhere my nervous system could finally exhale. Right now Iโm in a very in-between chapter. Iโve been housesitting near Burford for the last couple of months, looking after dogs, living quietly, trusting life a bit more than I used to. And honestly, this phase has taught me so much. Mainly that certainty doesnโt always come from having a fixed plan. Sometimes it comes from having practices that keep bringing you back to yourself. My daily Kundalini practice has been that for me. It gives my body structure, grounding and safety whilst so much around me still feels unknown. Iโm back in the van for a couple of weeks and last night I parked up in one of my favourite places - Goyt Valley in the Peak District. No alarm. No rushing. Just birdsong, a book, a cold river swim and bed by 9pm! I used to think rest had to be earned. That if I slowed down, everything would fall apart. But the more women I speak to, the more I hear the same thing: โI donโt have time to breathe.โ โWork takes over everything.โ โI wear busy like a badge of honour.โ But we canโt build a peaceful life from a constantly dysregulated nervous system. The van doesnโt fix everything. But it reminds me that slowing down isnโt lazy. Sometimes itโs the most healing thing we can do. Iโm curiousโฆ what would stepping off the roundabout look like for you this week? โจ