The (Almost) Perfect Sunday

I woke up early and had a beautiful, yummy breakfast at home with my friends.

I searched for my sports clothes in my wardrobe and got dressed. Ballerina bun today. Skincare done. I picked up my keys and called a cab.

Sundays are for yoga at 12pm. For the past months, this has been my Sunday ritual.

The instructor is Spanish. She has that rare balance—kind, warm, but with a strong, steady flow.

Vinyasa. It might be my favourite practice.

The poses are always the same, but every class feels different.

Before we begin, Estefa hands out small cards with messages. Today’s one felt like God sent it for me.

“RECOVERY IN SOLACE”

You are going through a major transformation, recovery, and healing. Those challenging emotions are moving away. Divine energy wants you to know you are almost there. What you are dealing with is coming to an end. There is a joyful future ahead of you. For now, allow it to unfold. Take the time you need to regain your emotional strength.

75 minutes of blissful, gentle flowing movement.

I moved with ease today. My body felt responsive—every transition, every stretch, every twist… smooth, almost effortless. Time softened. From time to time, intrusive thoughts appeared. But I let them pass.

It’s been almost a year since I started practicing yoga. I’ve realised I’m drawn to the flow, the internal heat, the breath, the stillness within it.

I used to be intimidated by the more challenging poses. But lately, I’ve been allowing myself to play, to explore. Today, I almost reached crow. And that’s enough to make me want to try again next time. The worst that can happen is that I fall.

There is a reason why I couldn’t miss today’s class. When it ended, I thanked the teacher and said, half-smiling:

“This might be my last class with you.”

“Forever?” she asked.

“I hope not… but it could be.”

We spoke for a while. I told her about my situation—the job, the visa cancellation, the timeline. She looked genuinely sad. But we stayed optimistic. I will miss her.

After class, I went to Kite Beach. The weather in Dubai right now is perfect. I laid under the sun, went into the sea, let the salt sit on my skin. Then a slow walk.

This is my kind of day. This is how I like to live.

When I do this, everything in me settles. My nervous system softens. I feel calm, present, grounded. I feel like myself: soft, relaxed, grateful, open.

And that’s why it’s hard. To know that in a few days, I won’t have this the way I have it here. It’s difficult to say goodbye, or even see you soon, to a place where I feel so well.

I call it an almost perfect Sunday because if I could add something, it would be this: to come back home, at the end of the day, and not be alone. To share this calm with someone, to have a quiet, warm and loving presence waiting. But that part is still… unfolding.

Instead, I come home.

I ordered a kale salad—lately, I’m obsessed. With pecan nuts, sweet potato, avocado, and a touch of balsamic. Simple, fresh and nourishing. Exactly what I feel like eating.

I put on a face mask, play some piano in the background. An oat milk cappuccino from % Arabica and start to write this.

This life.

Simple, quiet, mine.

I love it.