The Vacation Paradox

Last week our family went on vacation. 90% of the time, I felt like how this photo looked. I had a great time hanging out with family near the beach. We stayed up late, laughed around the fire, played cards, ate great meals, and did loads of fun things. 

But about halfway through, I had a mini-meltdown. We took the kids to go-karts and a trampoline basketball hoop--yes, apparently, that is a thing. We then went out to dinner, and everyone rejoined for a time around the fire. 

 There were no arguments or hang-ups, and nothing drastic happened, so why did I wind up overwhelmed and crying at the end of the night? Remember last week when I talked about embodied living? Well, I was about to be hit with the big hammer of situational irony.

While all the festivities were happening in my external world, my inner world was more off-kilter. I was tired. I wanted to go to the beach. Alone. I wanted to sit in the sand and stare into the cold water. But my mind told my body that it needed to be delayed. It wasn't the right time. Why disrupt the flow of the day? 

Then I got in the go-kart. 

The sensory overload was immediate. The constant roar of the engine, the total vibration of the kart, the speed of the course, the nerves as I found myself and my children whipping around the track. I was in immediate distress, feeling like I was simultaneously at the dentist getting a root canal while jumping out of an airplane.  

Thankfully, my body and my mind were in agreement and I was able to declare, “I'm never doing that again!” 

I was drained for the rest of the day. While I usually lean on the extroverted side, my inner introvert was screaming for a walk to the beach. But I silenced her, telling her to wait until after dinner. 

Dinner came and I offered to take the kids back to the house. I was spent and could use the down time while the rest of the grown-ups wrapped up and paid the bill. I told myself I could go on a walk after they got back. 

And then I waited. 

And waited. 

When everyone happily returned, I tried (unsuccessfully) to mask my anger, sadness, exhaustion, and overwhelm. Thankfully, I have a family who was sensitive to my needs, invited conversation, and didn't (outwardly) judge me for my tears. I said all I wanted to do was go for a walk to the beach.

My husband, always with the handy sports references, said, “Then go. I'll run interference.”

So I went. 

I walked the mile to my favorite beach in the nighttime. I sat on the beach and listened to the waves. I gave my soul what it asked for all day: movement, quiet, and solitude. 

I was gone for several hours. 

I took the time I needed. 

When I got back, I was a little tender and a little embarrassed, but better. I sat around the fire for a bit before heading home.

I hit the reset button that night and was present, centered, and available for the rest of the week. 

It's summertime, folks. Chances are good that you're also going on vacation or having a staycation. 

• Feel into your body, and ask it what it needs and wants. 

• Follow the whisper before it becomes a shout. 

• Get yourself what you need. 

Here are some questions that can help find that whisper: 

• At this moment, what do I need?

• At this moment, what do I want?

• If I could do anything right here and now, what would it be?

As for me, I'll be closer to the water and far away from those go-karts.