Why is it so common to quit yoga in the summer?
Summer transforms our routine. It's almost as if the calendar loosens and everything in life feels more spontaneous, less structured. Vacations, trips, social gatherings, long, hot days—all invite us to break away from the norm. And in that context, It is common for yoga, like so many other practices, is put on hold.
Is that wrong? Not at all. In fact, one of the most important lessons yoga has taught me is learning to read cycles. Not everything has to be linear or constant. Sometimes, the break is as nourishing as the practice itself. It's a time for renewal, for emotional and physical recharge. Often, it's even the moment I realize how much I miss my time on the mat. That's why we bring you these tips for resuming your yoga practice after the summer.
Like the seasons, practice also has its winters and springs. And each return is an opportunity. A chance to reconnect with yourself, with your body, with your breath. So the first thing I did was stop fighting the pause. Stop seeing it as a negative interruption, and begin to understand it as just another part of the process.
Because it's not about being "consistent at all costs," but about being honest about what we need at each stage. And summer, often, is a time of outward expansion. Coming back isn't about correcting a mistake; it's simply about returning home. A positive push to your body with a massage near you.
Accept the pause as part of the process and not as a setback
There's a very common trap when we stop practicing: guilt. That uncomfortable whisper that says, "You gave up on your practice, how lazy," "You're not as consistent as you used to be." That voice that turns a simple pause into a personal judgment. And believe me, there's nothing more paralyzing than that voice. Because it makes you believe that returning means "recovering" what you've lost, as if you're starting from zero. But that's not the case.
A pause is not a failure. Sometimes, it can be an opportunity. A space to observe where the yoga in our lives and how we want to relate to it from a new starting point. The important thing isn't what level you return to, but rather that you return from a place of listening and caring. That phrase sums up what we often forget: that yoga doesn't begin with the posture, but with the intention.
I've learned that accepting a break means accepting my humanity. And from there, a much more realistic, sustainable, and loving path opens up toward rediscovering the practice. There are no shortcuts, no guilt as a long-term motivator. What truly sustains the practice is the compassion with which we return to it.
And something curious has happened to me: often, when I return to practice after a break, my body is more present, more receptive. Because I missed that space. Because silence, the pause, also educates sensitivity. So rather than a regression, what there is in that return is a different maturity. A deeper awareness.
It doesn't matter if it's been weeks, months, or even years. Yoga is always there, waiting for us without judgment. Because More than a routine, it is a bondAnd bonds also breathe.
How to return to yoga by listening to your body without demanding things
Returning to the mat after a break requires special sensitivity. The body, after weeks or months of different rhythms, speaks differently. And listening to it without judgment is the first great practice. One that, paradoxically, we often forget when we feel like we "need to make up for lost time."
I learned to ask myself a simple question before every practice: "How is my body today?" That simple question is profoundly transformative. Because it brings me back to the present. Because it helps me tune into the physical and emotional reality of that moment, not into the idealized memory of how I was before.
Stiffness, fatigue, and weakness are common and valid sensations. They don't indicate failure, but simply another moment in the process. And when you stop seeing them as obstacles and start seeing them as information, the practice changes. It's no longer about forcing, but about accompanying. About moving at the pace of what is, not what should be.
I've had sessions where I only breathed while lying in savasana. Or where my practice was simply a couple of gentle twists and a few neck stretches. And that's yoga too. Because yoga isn't just what you do, but where you do it from.
In that sense, returning can become a deeply comforting and transformative act. If you're willing to listen without demanding. If you're willing to prioritize the quality of presence over the quantity of movement.
And when you start moving from there, from that honest listening, it's as if your body is saying, "Thank you." Because you're finally treating it as an ally, not an enemy to be tamed.
Letting go of guilt and expectations: returning from the present
One of the biggest enemies when returning to yoga is self-importance. That voice that compares your current practice with that of six months ago, or with that teacher you follow on social media, who seems to float effortlessly through each pose. This constant comparison drains energy and disconnects you from the only place you can truly practice: the present.
I've fallen into that trap many times. Trying to return "as if no time had passed." Demanding to perform as before, sustain as before, flow as before. And every time I did it, I ended up frustrated. Because returning doesn't mean recovering what you were, but rather reconnecting with who you are now. And that "now" has enormous value.
The key is to stop looking back with nostalgia or judgment, and start looking inward with honesty. What does my body need today? What can I offer it without forcing it? What part of me is resisting accepting that things have changed?
When we let go of the "should" and embrace the "this is how I am today," the practice becomes more real. Yoga ceases to be an external ideal and becomes an internal dialogue of presence and compassion. It's not about achieving, but about inhabiting. Not about fitting into a form, but about discovering what form naturally arises from your body, your energy, your current state.
And from there, everything becomes lighter. Kinder. Because you're no longer trying to prove anything, or live up to an image. You're simply returning to yourself, with what is. And that, believe me, is far more valuable than any perfectly executed asana.
Consistency over intensity: the true power of comeback
It's common that, when we decide to get back to yoga, we want to go all out. Long, intense classes, five times a week. As if willpower were the only possible driving force. But that mentality usually doesn't last long. Because it's unsustainable. Because it goes against the very spirit of yoga, which doesn't seek speed or competition, but rather presence and continuity.
Over time, I learned that the transformative power of yoga lies not in intensity, but in consistency. “Five minutes a day is better than an hour once a month.” A short but consistent practice can foster a relationship of commitment and self-care. You know that, no matter how demanding the day, you can return to the mat, even if it's just for a few minutes. And that creates a lasting and loving bond with the discipline. You don't need a full hour, a perfect room, or special clothes. You just need the gesture of showing up. Of rolling out the mat and being there, even if it's just for a few minutes.
And the funny thing is, those five minutes often turn into ten. Or fifteen. Because by removing the pressure of "having to do a lot," you open up space for your body to tell you what it needs. And when it feels heard, it gives in.
So if you're thinking about returning, my advice is this: start small. Very small. But do it every day. Do it with intention. Do it with love. And let the practice expand on its own.
Choose the right yoga style for a gentle restart
Not all yoga styles are the same, much less suitable for every moment. After the summer, with the body unaccustomed and energy still somewhat scattered, what's most needed isn't intensity, but rather restraint. Gentleness. A rhythm that accompanies the return, rather than demanding from day one.
This is where styles like yin yoga, gentle hatha, and restorative yoga come into their own. They're practices that don't seek to "achieve" something, but rather to sustain you. They don't demand that you reach an external goal, but rather invite you to experience what's there, without judgment. And in this space, the most valuable thing happens: a genuine reconnection with the body.
The poses I recommend most, and which I currently practice, are balasana (child's pose), supta baddha konasana (reclining angle pose), viparita karani (legs up the wall), and apanasana (knee-to-chest hug). They are not only accessible but deeply restorative. These poses help the body reconnect with movement through rest, promoting a state of greater calm.
Returning to these styles isn't about "starting from scratch," but rather "returning from the center." And that changes everything. Because it's no longer about performance, but about care. About support. About holding yourself first, before attempting to hold any posture.
Listen to what your body is asking for. Maybe it's not a flowing vinyasa, but rather a deep breath in savasana. And that's yoga too. That, often, is what's most needed.
Accessible and fluid postures to reconnect body and mind
In addition to restorative postures, an effective way to return to yoga after the summer is to introduce a simple, flowing sequence that allows the body to move naturally and without stress. This not only releases physical tension but also facilitates energetic reconnection. After weeks of different rhythms, our bodies sometimes need to "remember" movement.
I usually start with basic movements like cat-cow pose (marjaryasana-bitilasana), gentle lying twists, side stretches on the floor, seated forward bends, and gentle neck and shoulder rotations. There aren't any "advanced" poses on that list, but they all have a clear purpose: to awaken the body with respect.
The key is to focus on your breathing, lengthen your exhalations, and avoid the urge to "achieve" a shape. It's not about how it looks, it's about how it feels. Each pose is an opportunity to feel from within, not from a mirror.
I've discovered that there's immense wisdom in these simple movements. The body doesn't need to be forced to respond. It needs space, attention, and time. That's why, even in a short session, I pause between each pose. I don't jump from one to the next like in a choreography; I stop, observe, and continue.
That slower pace isn't a lack of energy: it's intention. It's respect. And it's, in many ways, an advanced listening practice. Yoga After Summer: The Value of Pause because when you allow the body to guide, what emerges is far more authentic than any perfect alignment.
Breathing and meditation: pillars for a deep return
Sometimes, when we return from summer, our bodies still feel scattered, unwilling to move. And that's okay. In those moments, I don't force a physical practice. I turn to breathing and meditation. Because those are also paths of return. Just as valid. Just as transformative.
Pranayama and meditation can be the best allies to sustain your practice, especially when your body isn't yet ready for a full sequence. Breathing techniques such as nadi shodhana (alternating), sama vritti (square rhythm), or simply attentive observation of the natural flow can help generate a sense of balance and calm.
Even a few minutes of seated meditation, with soft music or silence, can become that space of presence you need to feel "at home" again. And you don't need much more than that: a cushion, a quiet corner, and the willingness to close your eyes and observe.
Personally, when I don't feel like doing postures, I lie down in savasana, place one hand on my chest and the other on my abdomen, and simply breathe. I follow the flow of the inhalation and exhalation. I feel my body still. And from that silence, a spontaneous desire to move often arises.
Don't underestimate the power of stillness. Because often, the return to yoga doesn't begin on the mat, but in the breath. In that deep inhalation that grounds you. In that long exhalation that frees you.
Create a sacred space at home that invites you to return
One of the most important factors in sustaining your practice, especially at the beginning, is space. Not just physical, but emotional. Because returning to yoga isn't always easy, and having a place that invites you, that supports you, can make all the difference.
And you don't need a yoga studio. Just a corner that evokes calm. That little "temple" can simply be a mat spread out in a quiet corner, with a candle, a plant, or a figure that has meaning for you. That's exactly what I did in my home. A simple place but full of intention. Where, upon entering, my body already knows it can relax. That it can breathe differently.
That corner becomes a silent reminder. A constant invitation. Because the easier it is to access, the more likely you are to use it. If you have to move furniture or clean to practice, you're likely to put it off. But if it's already there, ready, waiting, then returning becomes more natural.
I also like to have a blanket, a pillow, maybe a gentle essential oil, or some calming music nearby. Not because they're essential, but because they help create that caring atmosphere. That atmosphere that tells you, "This is your moment."
Creating that space is, in itself, a practice. An act of presence. A gentle commitment to yourself. And often, it's that gesture that rekindles the spark.
Enjoy yoga again as a reunion with yourself
When yoga becomes a habit, it sometimes becomes just another obligation. Something you "have to do." And that takes away all meaning. That's why, when I return, I make a special effort to remember the joy. To rediscover the pleasure of movement, the joy of breathing slowly, the well-being that a good savasana brings.
Allow yourself to enjoy. Smile while you practice. Not everything has to be solemn or perfect. Yoga is also play, curiosity, and joy. Returning from a place of enjoyment is a powerful way to reconnect. To remember why you started. To release mental rigidity and regain a light heart.
I've had practices where all I did was move to the beat of a song I liked. Where I improvised without a plan, without structure, just feeling. And in the end, that session was more liberating than any "full" class.
Returning to yoga isn't a punishment for what you didn't do, but a celebration of still being here. Looking forward to returning to yourself. To your body. To your space. At your own pace.
And when you allow yourself to enjoy, everything changes. Practice is no longer a duty, but a gift. It's not a goal, but a reunion.
Return home
Resuming your yoga practice after the summer is a gift you give yourself. It's not a punishment for what you didn't do, but an invitation to reconnect with who you are today. It's about listening, being present, and respecting your own rhythms.
Thus, returning to practice won't be an effort, but a return home. To that place within you that is always there, waiting with open arms.
May this return be the beginning of a new phase. Not based on demands or what you should be doing, but on the honesty of your present moment. May it be a living, flexible, loving practice. May it accompany and sustain you.
Because yoga isn't something you do. It's something that reminds you of who you are. And in that remembering, there's always room to return.
In Quiroessence We believe that balance between body and mind is cultivated every day. Enjoy yoga after the summer with gentleness and awareness. Reconnect with your body, your breath, and your inner well-being. Our massage, osteopathy, and yoga center is located in the heart of Granada, just a five-minute walk from the Cathedral.
If you're looking for a space to take care of yourself, relax, and reconnect, we'd love to welcome you.
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