🌿 Summer Nomad

Learning to Live in the In-Between

Since July, I’ve left my home in Haute-Savoie. That space I had chosen, that I knew by heart: every corner, the neighborhood, my neighbors (such gems of kindness and support… I already miss you, ladies 💛). My routines were there, my grocery runs, my walks. Then came the move, boxes filled and a very personal sens of logic, most of my belllogings gone and far for the next 2 months. Leaving me a suitcase of summer cloths and a car filled to the brim, and Chafouine settled against me (strapped to my chest, not in a cage). Off we went, on an adventure. Nowhere to call home for the next two months, just one obligation: to be in the center of France (Indre) by early September.

Morzine, a Gentle Pause First stop

Morzine. I seamingly slipped into my friends’ holiday and simple daily lives, joining their walks, their meals, their outings… savoring this sweetness of living, this slow rhythm — and yet always filled with small, pressure-free activities. Morzine feels a bit like a second home to me and has a very special place in my heart. A place where I feel grounded, and where even Chafouine finds her bearings. Between swims, walks, and morning coffees while watching the paragliders pass by… time simply disappears. Of course, even warmly welcomed, there’s always that tiny feeling of being “the intruder.” So I did my best: helping in the kitchen, doing the dishes, tidying up, cleaning, trying to be as discreet as possible. But after ten days, it was time to move on — to pack up again and find a place elsewhere.

Heading South, to the Luberon

Next stop, and once again the car was overflowing (yes, even my plants had a spot). Off I went again, on a scorching hot day, towards the South. Poor Chafouine, uprooted again, with no idea her home was about to change once more. We arrived late, and the very first thing I did was take care of her. I had brought everything to recreate her cocoon (blanket, sheepskin, her chair cushion), so she could still find familiar scents. My poor little cat, so unsettled. At my father’s house lives Jeannie, a corgi with short legs and a gentle heart (thankfully for us 😅). To avoid stormy encounters, I carefully managed their cohabitation: Chafouine in her room, with a few supervised outings to taste the southern air.

Becoming one with the Moment, Even during a complet uprooting

Here in the Luberon, I wanted to make myself useful. So I joined in on small projects: cutting dead branches from the swing tree, sanding and varnishing the veranda table, helping in the garden… A way to ease my family’s load while also grounding myself in this suspended time. And when the heat drops below 32°C (thank goodness), life becomes even sweeter: walking into the village, savoring a coffee on a terrace, enjoying the pool, rolling out my yoga mat in the morning on the patio. I’m always observing, hoping to spot the squirrel I used to see so often in past summers. I’ve also reconnected with a friend in Lourmarin, and our conversations have turned into precious moments of laughter and confidences.

Finding My Way Back to the Yoga Mat

This first month, yoga wasn’t easy to fit into my days. Hard to carve out solo time, outdoors, in the shade, away from distractions (child, friend, dog, cat, heat…). But then one day, I unrolled the mat again. Some postures felt tighter than usual — my body had stiffened from long drives, heavy boxes, and all the ongoing changes. So I slowed down, I breathed, and I accepted. ✨ Accepting that the body speaks, that it sometimes needs softness and space. Accepting that slowing down is the best way to feel lighter, in both body and mind. And trusting that what we were once able to do, we can find again. Allowing the body to soak in the ease that yoga brings, to gradually rediscover sensations of before… and maybe even go a little further.

Preparing for the Unknown From a distance

I’ve also been preparing my new home. Internet, electricity, organization… all the details to make moving day as smooth as possible. I even found a second-hand outfit to go sign the papers — a true favorite that feels like an embodiment of what I want to carry into this new chapter (a wink to my conversation with Violaine from Vital Blooming, Echo Bienveillant n°2 ✨). Little by little, I feel myself balancing both sides of me: the calm, slow, bohemian one… and the fun, slightly crazy one that’s always in motion.

And Now?

This transition is teaching me to live in the in-between. To leave behind a place I knew so well, to accept the floating present, and to prepare for the new chapter waiting for me in September. I can’t wait to set down my suitcases, open the door of this new cocoon, and discover what life has in store. 🌸