How do you spell summertime? V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N. Sometimes it means a long weekend away, sometimes, several weeks—or more, if you’re lucky. Local or exotic, by the day or by the week, the time away from the daily grind
is important not only for the fun or relaxation you plan to have, but also for your creativity.
This hit home for me after a recent vacation trip. I’ll admit it: I’m a work-a-holic, and the thought of taking time off, away from my desk and my plugged-in life, seemed a waste. I do take my weekends off (for the most part), so what more break did I need?
It turned out that the six days away—six days, to paraphrase Monty Python, of something completely different—were just what I needed to reset my mental stress levels. Instead of sitting at my desk, worrying about my
next deadline, I was out on the lake in a wood-strip canoe or attending a
lecture on the indigenous history of the Adirondacks or walking the woods with fellow birders as the sun rose.
On purpose, I kept my online activity to a minimum, and I resisted the temptation to check in with my team at work. I had committed to the time off and I was going to keep that promise!
Being in a different setting also sparked writing ideas. I wasn’t brainstorming on purpose—just letting the thoughts flow, set into motion by the act of doing something outside of my usual routine.
When I returned home, work was waiting for me—the emails to answer and the projects to complete—but the otherness of being away lingered. I continued to feel relaxed as the days spooled by. That restfulness won’t last, of course. But when it comes time to plan the next vacation, I won’t be as hesitant to pull out the maps and start planning.
What’s your favorite kind of get away to recharge?
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Born and raised in the Midwest, Dianna has also lived in three other quadrants of the U.S. She writes short stories and poetry, and has just released a full-length novel, Scream of the Silent Sun.
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“Did I tell you about the time Aunt Jen and I found a wooden box on the beach?” Molly pulled her jacket tighter against the chill that had descended along with the sunset. Her three kids sat around the fire with her, listening to the crackle of the flames as the night around them darkened.
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Lily pressed her flowered handkerchief to her forehead and wondered for the fifth time that day why she had signed up for the Festival of the Earth event.
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The accountant opened the folder and skimmed the stack of documents it contained. A W-2, 1099s, receipts, investment summaries, it was all there, Annie hoped. Matt always left it up to her to compile the papers needed before they sat down with Tom, their CPA. Her business was laden with supply orders, customer invoices, and back-end pay-outs. Matt worked in analytical statistics for a pharma company: salary, health insurance, 401(K), easy-peasy.
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The conversations murmuring around her provided white noise for Erica as she sat at her laptop in the busy coffeeshop. One more chapter to finish. Then a scrap of an exchange broke through her deep concentration.
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