Full-Time Vacation

...is not a good thing.

There is a Berenstain Bear book called, Too Much Vacation, and when Naomi was young, she loved that book. And also when Naomi was young, the three of us would come home from vacation, drop our suitcases, collapse into chairs and collectively moan, "Too much vacation!", each recalling that Berenstein Bear book.

Too much driving/riding/staying up late. Too much living inside a tent, too much swimming and fast food and museums and hiking and getting lost and folding maps.

Basically, too much thinking only of ourselves.

And then yesterday, once again, I had that Too Much Vacation feeling. Oh, I hadn't been in a tent these last 10 days, hadn't traveled or visited any museums and it was much, much, much too cold to go swimming anywhere.

No, but I'd been thinking only of myself. "How little can I get away with doing today? And what else can I do for myself that will make me more comfortable/happy/entertained?"

Then yesterday I got sick of it. Enough is enough and I'd had enough.

Enough vacation.
Enough movies.
Enough recuperating time after my parents' visit.
Enough pampering myself after the teeny little chill I had.
Enough thinking I'd had it rough.
Enough procrastinating of my chores and responsibilities.
Enough treating myself like royalty.

Enough.

Why do we think full-time vacation would be a good thing? We are naive. We haven't learned to love our work, our days, our normal life. 

For ten days I think I forgot that I do, indeed, love both my work and my days.

Or perhaps it was more a case of having to be reminded just how good I have it. And sometimes, in order to remember, you have to first forget. You have to sail away into something that looks good, but in reality, would be too sticky-sweet if you had a steady diet of it.

And that's what those ten days were--too darn sticky sweet. I have the extra two pounds to prove it. 

And there is something else we forget--real joy is found in giving to you and you and you--not to me, me, me.

Yum, today!  My Normal Today tastes better, more glorious, than a million vacation days. There's a lot to be said for a wholesome, balanced diet. There's a lot to be said for giving of oneself rather than to oneself.


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