Re-Envisioning Vacation

When it comes to summer vacation, I’ll admit that I’m spoiled. First as a student, then as an educator, I had a nice chunk of time off every summer. There were certainly things I needed to do over the summer to prepare for the next year and there were summers that I worked at least part-time but, for the majority of my summers, June and July were mine. It was only when I flipped the calendar page to August that I needed to flip my thinking to back to school.

Consequently, my idea of vacation was empty blocks on unspoiled calendar pages, with plenty of time (in between the doctor's appointments that always got pushed to summer) to read, relax, and do whatever I wanted. Sleeping in. Shopping. Trips to the library, the beach, and anywhere else that looked interesting.

This was the only way I knew how to define vacation.

Then I started teaching a summer class. Most of July was still mine, but June was a transition month -- part work and part vacation. 

This summer, I taught a summer class and took on a work-from-home contract that tipped the scales further off-kilter. Until I found my rhythm (and sometimes even now that I have), I felt grumpy and cheated. 

Where did my summer go?

I am profoundly aware that this is a first-world problem of the highest (lowest?) degree. But I'm also aware that my feelings are real, even if the situation is hardly earth-shattering, and that not having down time is not a good long-term solution. So, I had to look at what was possible rather than longing for what was not.

And, what was possible was -- is -- reframing vacation.

Vacation is beaches and cruises and long stretches of time to do anything -- or nothing. But when that sort of vacation isn't on the calendar, as is the case for many people, we need to be intentional about creating smaller blocks of unspoiled time.

And so I started thinking about the best parts of vacation.

Declaring a day off in the middle of a week? I can do that.

Sleeping in? I can do that.

Taking mornings to myself, or at least starting out slowly and with the things I enjoy, like journaling, Words with Friends and the New York Times games? I can do that.

Curling up with a good book for an unspecified amount of time? I can do that.

Enjoying the sunshine from inside our sunroom, out on our new patio, or out in the world? I can do that.

Taking time to create via words on the page, creating collages, sketchnoting, or growing my rudimentary art skills? I can do that.

Setting a routine quitting time whereby I finish working early enough in the day to have a restful evening? I can do that.

Going off on an adventure with a friend or loved one? Ah, that one is harder for me. But I think I can do that, too.

Some summers, long, unspoiled stretches of time aren't in the cards and their absence can make us feel cheated. But if the real joy of summer is having more time for the people and things that we love, we need to be intentional about carving it out where we can, roping it off, and designating it as vacation. It might take some planning and it might look a little unconventional, but down time, by definition, has no rule book.

And that is what vacation is really about.

No matter what it looks like.