A Rude Awakening to a New Routine

It’s been a little over a week since Rafiki passed, and while my heart feels steadier, my days still feel… off.

What I didn’t realize until he was gone was just how much Rafiki unknowingly ran the entire household. 😂 From the moment I woke up — often acting as my personal alarm clock by stirring and then standing right on my belly until I got up — take me out, feed me, give me water, take a short nap, repeat again and again — he dictated the rhythm of my day. Loudly, might I add. Between his pacing nails on the floor, big sighs, anxious barks for food or to go outside, and his constant need to be near me, there was never a quiet moment.

Now the house is so quiet. And while part of my nervous system truly loves the peace, there’s another part of me that misses his noise so much. Funny how the very things that used to drive us crazy become the sounds we ache to hear one more time.

What’s been most surprising is how much extra time I suddenly have — and how disorienting that feels. Without Rafiki’s constant cues, I find myself floundering a bit, unsure what to do next, my routine completely disrupted. It actually reminds me a lot of the early COVID days, when I went from teaching 20 classes a week, running The Yoga Tree, working corporate accounts — to suddenly hitting a brick wall of stillness overnight. Life went from nonstop movement and structure… to nothing.

This time, it wasn’t the world changing. It was the loss of a little soul who unknowingly kept my entire schedule in check.

Adding to the mix is Sukha — my sweet Kapha dog — who has absolutely no sense of routine whatsoever. 😂 Some mornings she pees and eats right away, other mornings she lounges on the couch for an hour or two like she’s on vacation before she’s ready to move.

Calm and peaceful? Yes.

Helpful for someone craving structure? Not so much.

Between Rafiki’s sudden absence and Sukha’s go-with-the-flow lifestyle, my rhythm has been thoroughly confused.

And then there’s the season we’re in.

We’ve just come through an incredibly cold couple of months — with mornings dipping as low as -10 degrees. Winter itself is a time that naturally pushes Vata out of balance: cold, dry, movement, and heightened sensitivity of the nervous system. When you layer emotional shock and the sudden loss of routine on top of that seasonal Vata energy, it makes so much sense why brain fog, scattered thoughts, and feeling untethered show up.

In Ayurveda, routine is one of the most important tools for bringing Vata back into balance. It creates safety, predictability, and grounding for the nervous system. Looking back, I realized Rafiki had been unknowingly providing that grounding rhythm for my entire day.

The one thing that has truly helped stabilize me during this transition has been keeping a few anchors in place — eating at my normal-ish meal times and continuing to go to bed early. Mornings have been slower (and I think that’s okay), but those consistent rhythms of nourishment and rest have made a noticeable difference.

Along with consistent meals and sleep, Abhyanga (Ayurvedic oil massage) has been another practice that’s helped ground me during this time.

It’s been a gentle reminder that when life shakes us up — through loss, change, or sudden stillness — our bodies crave routine even more than usual. Sometimes healing doesn’t come from doing more, but from returning to the simple rhythms that help us feel safe and grounded.

Grief isn’t just emotional. It lives in our routines, our nervous systems, our sense of time and structure. And as painful as these transitions can be, they also invite us to create new rhythms — ones that support where we are now.

The house may be quieter. The days may look different. But slowly, a new routine is beginning to form.

And for now, I’m learning to meet it with gentleness.