Several years ago, I sat in my therapistโs office while still running my recruiting company. I told her I was looking forward to an upcoming vacation in Sarasota with my kids โ and proudly explained my plan: Mornings: work. Afternoons: beach and pool with the kids. Evenings: a little laptop time while they played shuffleboard and made new friends. She looked at me kindly and asked, โDo you know what the wordย vacationย actually means?โ I blinked. โUhโฆ?โ She told me vacation comes from the Latin verbย vacareย โ โto be empty, free, or at leisure.โ And, she pointed out, not much about my plan sounded empty, free, or leisurely. I defended myself: staying on top of things wouldย reduceย stress. I’d return to the office without being slammed. I genuinely believed being connected to work was non-negotiable โ and hadnโt even considered moving calls or pushing things back a week. She challenged me to try something else: Donโt change anything this vacation but when I returned, I was to start to scheduleย mini-vacationsย in my calendar. So I did. At first, they still came with a productivity mindset. Iโd go for a walk and track my steps. A healthy habit? Sure. But it wasnโt exactly leisure. I caught myself. I began to wander instead of walking. I sat on the patio and put my feet up. I walked barefoot in the grass. I picked green beans from the garden. I journaled. I cat-napped. And I started to change. I craved those mini-vacations. I made room for more. The next Sarasota trip? I only worked Mondays and Tuesdays. The year after that? Just a few light calls and emails each day. And this year, as my husband and I head to Wisconsin โ my calendar is nearly empty. Here is a peek at my calendar: |