Easter has come and gone… but spring hasn’t quite caught up.

Out here on the Pamet, the tide is pulling out, but something in the air still lingers — gray, raw, and slow to let go. I can feel that in myself too, this slower pace, not especially motivated to rush into anything. This isn’t unfamiliar. It’s part of the rhythm of the Cape.

And over the years, I’ve learned not to wait for the season to shift before I do. It’s the only way I ever feel ready for what’s ahead. I’ve always had my own version of “spring training”, a way of preparing for what I know is coming.

Ten years ago, that might have been a practice built around 108 chaturangas. And yes, I could probably still do that, but these days it looks a little different. My foundation is still a strong, steady yoga practice, but now it’s a half mala, a few hand weights, maybe some Pilates mixed in. It used to be a plant-based reset heading into beach season. Now it’s about maintaining, supporting the body I’m in, with a little more protein and some added resistance. Yes, sardines and cottage cheese have made their way into the mix — try the “Trust Me Toast,” you might be surprised.

Things shift, and I’ve come to appreciate that. Not just in the seasons around me, but in my body, my practice, and my life.

Living in rhythm doesn’t mean waiting for everything to line up perfectly. It means paying attention, adjusting, letting things evolve. Sometimes it’s as simple as not just waiting for spring to arrive. Sometimes it means going over the bridge. And by that, I mean literally — crossing the Sagamore, leaving the gray behind for a bit, and finding where things are already starting to bloom.

What would it look like not to wait?

For me, it’s a few small breaks from the usual. A weekend out in Western Mass, reconnecting with my Prana Flow family and my teacher, Shiva Rea. A short trip up to Quebec to spend time with my grandmother and catch a concert with Hermanos Gutiérrez (you’ve probably heard them on my playlists, but I’ll link one here if you want to take a listen).

And then one I wasn’t planning at all, but I’m really grateful for — I’ll be heading back to Mexico in a few weeks, returning to El Cuyo.

I have one spot left. If you’re feeling that pull to step away for a bit, to find a little sun, a little warmth, a bit of a reset (and not wait for summer to arrive), you’d be very welcome to join me.

Here at home… I’m teaching Tuesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. Come move with me.

xox G