For a long time, yoga has been very important to me. It’s been fitness and mental health, meditation and rest.

In conversation with a co-worker once, we were lamenting about stress and work and not having time to practice. “But when you’re so busy and stressed, that’s probably when you need yoga most, right?” she said, laughing. I agreed.

How does one find time, between dishes and cooking, writing and reading, parenting and groceries, work and travel? Back home, I like waking up early for a light breakfast before yoga practice.

But in the past few months I’ve been so busy with preparations for my Bangladesh trip that I was often too tired for yoga. I knew I needed sleep and rest more than anything. I may have managed to practice once a week, if I was lucky.

I told myself, I’ll practice when I get there. Of course that didn’t happen. Two days after arriving in Dhaka, I flew to Cox’s Bazar, and the next day I was off to Ukhiya. Some days I was in the hospital, another day I was in the camps. Other days I went out. And of course, the work was the priority.

But not today! (well, the day I wrote this) Today is the middle of a long weekend. I woke up refreshed. I had no need to get up early, no meeting to prepare for, nothing to write. I thought to myself, I can do yoga.

I changed out of my pajamas and into leggings and a sports bra. I didn’t bring a mat, but I had a towel that I laid out on the floor. I got my tablet, and soon the soothing sound of Adriene Louise’s voice filled my ears.

It was the best gift I could give myself on a long weekend. It was a quick 15-minute practice, and I barely even broke a sweat, but it was exactly what I needed for my aching back and my tense neck. A simple warrior, many sun salutations, some forward bends. It was lovely.

It’s not lost on me that it was my preparation for this trip that threw me off my usual practice, and yet it’s here that I find my way back to the mat. Perhaps it’s because here and now, I’ve found a rhythm I can work with, a flow to my days, an ease to this tumultuous place. The long weekend helps, of course, because I’m forced to pause, given time to do nothing, and the opportunity to be alone with myself.

It is a gift I hope to receive again soon.