Several years ago, I sat in my therapist’s office while still running my recruiting company. I told her I was looking forward to an upcoming vacation in Sarasota with my kids — 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, “Do you know what the word vacation actually means?”
I blinked. “Uh…?”
She told me vacation comes from the Latin verb vacare — “to be empty, free, or at leisure.”
And, she pointed out, not much about my plan sounded empty, free, or leisurely.
I defended myself: staying on top of things would reduce stress. I’d return to the office without being slammed. I genuinely believed being connected to work was non-negotiable — and hadn’t even considered moving calls or pushing things back a week.
She challenged me to try something else: Don’t change anything this vacation but when I returned, I was to start to schedule mini-vacations in my calendar.
So I did.
At first, they still came with a productivity mindset. I’d go for a walk and track my steps. A healthy habit? Sure. But it wasn’t 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 — my calendar is nearly empty.
Here is a peek at my calendar: |