I Know What to Do, But I Cannot Access It When I Need It.

Why regulation practices need to become second nature

There is a moment I recognise well, both in myself and in the people I work with.

A moment when something within you knows what might help, a breath, a pause, a grounding practice, and yet it feels just out of reach. The body tightens, the mind becomes busy, and what usually supports you feels distant.

I notice this most clearly in everyday moments. Not in extremes, but in the small shifts that happen across a day. A slight tightening in the chest. A subtle sense of rushing. A change in the breath while standing in the kitchen or moving between tasks. These moments are easy to pass by, yet they carry important information.

Over time, I have noticed that my response to these signals no longer feels deliberate. The noticing and the response tend to arrive close together. There is less space between recognising a shift and meeting it with support.

This has developed gradually through repetition. Returning to the same simple practices again and again in ordinary moments has allowed them to settle. Through familiarity, the body begins to recognise what is supportive, and awareness and response start to move together.

From a neuroscience perspective, repetition is how patterns are created in the brain. When an experience is repeated, the neural pathways involved become stronger and more efficient. Over time, the brain requires less conscious effort to activate them. This is how skills move from something we think about into something we simply do.

Brushing your teeth or tying your shoelaces are familiar examples. At some point, these actions required attention and learning. Through repetition, they became automatic. You no longer need to think through each step for them to happen.

Regulation practices follow the same principle.

When a supportive practice is returned regularly in daily life, the brain and nervous system begin to recognise it as familiar. The body learns that this pattern is safe and supportive. With time, it becomes easier to access because it no longer relies on effort or decision making.

Many people come to yoga therapy saying they already know how to breathe, meditate, or understand the nervous system. Yet when stress rises, those tools feel unavailable. This experience often carries frustration or self judgement.

What repetition offers is a different pathway. Practices that are revisited often enough become embedded. When pressure is present, what is familiar is what the system can reach.

This is what I mean by second nature.

When a practice becomes second nature, it does not require thinking through steps or remembering instructions. The breath settles. The body softens. A pause appears naturally. These shifts happen because the nervous system recognises a pattern it already knows.

Short, simple practices play an important role here. Two minutes, returned to again and again, can be deeply supportive. When a practice is woven into everyday moments, standing in the kitchen, walking between rooms, sitting in the car, lying down before sleep, it becomes part of daily life. Familiarity is what allows access.

Yoga therapy invites us to work with how the body and brain actually learn. Through consistency rather than intensity. Through integration rather than accumulation.

Instead of asking, “Why can’t I access this?”, a gentler question may emerge.“How can I return to this often enough for it to feel familiar?”

This shift moves us away from self criticism and towards patience. Away from doing more, and towards allowing something to settle.

Regulation is not a performance. It is a relationship that deepens gradually, through repetition, familiarity, and care.

A short, accessible practice that supports this process is shared in the Got 2 minutes? newsletter that accompanies this reflection.

For those who would like more personalised support in building practices that integrate into daily life, I offer one to one yoga therapy sessions, in London and online. These sessions are shaped around repetition, relationship, and timing, helping practices become familiar enough to be accessible with ease.

Thank you for taking the time to read and reflect here.

With warmth and care,

Ayala