The Best Vacation
Getting away from it all
Summer days with longer daylight hours increase activity and growth in the garden. Life is busy with travel, keeping the garden going, and gearing up for backpacking trips in the mountains. The urgency to do it now drives my days. “Don’t wait for tomorrow what you can do today” is my motto. My current to-do list is extensive, following my recent two week West Coast excursion. But my energy matches the growth spurt the plants in the garden must feel. Even my sourdough bread is rising faster than usual! I planned a shake-down, a backpacking trip to test my body after getting a new knee. So I put away the suitcase, did the laundry, and pulled out my backpack. A shake-down trip is for testing gear and activating systems.
After a year’s hiatus, my locator beacon had to be updated. It’s amazing how quickly technology ages. I updated and synced my now ancient locator beacon with the current apps on my phone and gained another year before I will have to replace it with a newer model. Same for my smartwatch. It’s frustrating to need a new item when the existing one operates. I may not backpack next year; this notion lingers in my thoughts. Aging counts. The water filters needed to be restored. You should avoid cleaning then drying filters for storage. Keep it moist, I learned. Everything I need is packed and ready to go. Packing for this weekend’s adventure fills me with anticipation.
Vacations define summer for most folks. Vacations are often busy with travel, new cities, new beaches, and fresh adventures. Vacations are not necessarily restful. The Latin word “vacare” means “emptying out”. Vacations typically offer a change of rhythm, not complete disengagement. Perhaps it signifies escaping everyday pressures, only to face new ones. Looking ahead at my summer calendar, I see I have blocked out an eight-day self-retreat. I’m so glad I did this. Doing a retreat is the genuine spirit of a vacation. After turning off my phone, messages and news, I will live simply on food stocked in my pantry with fresh veggies from the garden. I will have time to contemplate what lives deep inside me. I’ll pause summer’s frantic energy to savor sunshine, blossoms, and leisure.
Hiking in the mountains brings me a sense of emptiness and a feeling of being one with nature. I choose these summer activities to remind myself that I am part of a bigger world, throbbing with life energy. The daily details of living will fall away. No appointments, no marketing of my new book, no social visits, no garden maintenance, no upkeep of house and car. If my body cooperates, I’ve planned two more weeklong backpacking trips. I will end the summer with another meditation retreat in September.
It must be a sign of getting wiser with age that I plan these hiatuses between the busy days of summer. A sign that I’m learning to go slower. The voice of my recently departed friend, who became 97-years-old, singing her song “Go Slowly”, is in my head. She’s teaching me from the other side. The song’s lyrics go like this:
Go slow,
Then you’ll know
How to meet yourself
How to greet yourself
Where you are.
Go slow,
How to see yourself
How to be yourself
As you are
Go slow
Where to seek the truth
When to speak the truth
From your heart.
Unlike winter’s stillness, summer is full of movement. Alternating high-paced living with slow movement allows for wonder and awe at the processes of growth and change. The wildflowers, the tumbling river, the silent lake will produce awe. The high cliffs rising above the river and meadows will make me wonder how they affect the weather and break the wind. I will bring that wonder and awe to my silent retreat following this hike, where it can sink in and warm my heart. I must not squander the blessing of my body’s movement. The best vacation is yet to come.
Love this one, Dami, from the high performance of your sour dough to "go slow"--the benefits. I need to follow the last. Speed is ultimately inefficient, I think.