There are days when you don’t realise how tightly you’re holding your routine until something interrupts it. By Kiesha Meikle
For me, that interruption came through a Nyungnay retreat at a Kadampa Buddhist Meditation Centre in Kensington. A structured day of practice: early starts, set sessions, silence, repetition. A rhythm completely removed from the usual pace of work, emails, and constant switching:
6:30–7:30am: Eight Mahayana precepts
8:15–9:45am: Drop of Essential Nectar session 1
10:30–12pm: Drop of Essential Nectar session 2
12–1:15pm: Lunch break
1:15–2:45pm: Drop of Essential Nectar session 3
3:15–4:30pm: Wishfulfilling Jewel Puja
There’s something striking about a day where everything is already decided for you. No decision fatigue. No checking in with your inbox. No mental tab-hopping between tasks. At first, I noticed how unusual that felt, how quickly the mind reaches for its usual momentum – (Even on the way there, I found myself arguing with my husband about house insurance, of all things – heading into a session intended for calm and compassion!) work thoughts, to-do lists, small background anxieties that normally sit just beneath everything…they were all lurking in the background.
But over time, something shifts. Without constant input, the pressure to keep up with it all begins to soften.
It doesn’t feel like escape. It feels more like stepping outside a rhythm you know you’re inside, but don’t fully acknowledge its impact. Even when you do, the not knowing how to step away from it safely keeps you locked in.
Nyungnay retreat at a Kadampa Buddhist centre
My husband and daughter were with me, and my aunt – who is a Buddhist nun – was part of the retreat.
Being around her has always had an influence on me, though not in a defined or doctrinal way. I didn’t grow up religious in any structured sense, but I’ve found myself shaped by exposure to these practices over time. I have an altar at home that I return to occasionally, not out of obligation, but as a familiar point of pause. It sits somewhere between habit and intention…less about belief, more about what it does to the moment.
The prostrations and chanting created an experience that felt all-encompassing. Letting go of ego, for my husband and for myself. Lying flat on the floor can do that! But it also felt like a surrender to the moment, a letting go of everything outside that room. That mix of people made the day feel layered in a way my usual routine rarely is. Different generations. Different relationships to time, work, and stillness. All sharing the same space, but moving through it differently.
A Different Kind of Attention
During the break, I left the centre and visited the Design Museum in Kensington. It was a completely different kind of attention – open, visual, unstructured. A shift from inward stillness to outward observation. I felt almost consumed by it -in the best way. To be surrounded by creativity, within four walls designed to heighten your experience of art and design, felt like a gift. For someone who values creativity, it was a different kind of reset …so many different touchpoints, both inward and outward, spiritual and creative.
A Different Rhythm
What stood out most wasn’t just the retreat or the unplanned visit to the museum – but what happened when I stepped away from my normal structure altogether.
Work didn’t disappear. But it stopped feeling immediately present. The constant internal pressure to respond, manage, or stay on top of everything loosened its grip.And I realised how rarely we create conditions where that can happen. Not through productivity systems or better time management – but through actual breaks in routine.
Different structures. Different environments. Different expectations for how a day is meant to unfold.
Because sometimes, what we need isn’t better balance within the same rhythm. It’s a different rhythm entirely.
