I used to think that I hated vacations. I joked around with people that I was “bad at them” but the attempt at humor was only a way of masking my own fundamental unease. They just didn’t seem to work. I tried many different routes: planning every last detail, flying by the seat of my pants, adventure trips, beach resort trips, intellectual sight seeing trips, stay-cations. Nothing brought me that sense of relaxation and renewal that I thought a vacation was supposed to provide.
Turns out, you can’t take a vacation from yourself.It’s like I thought that I could pack a Brand New Me in my luggage with me. Instead, I constantly found that Old Me was stealing the show. Not that there’s anything wrong with Old Me but she has no practice sitting by the beach and staring at the waves for hours, a fantasy for some reason represents the height of relaxation to me. No, she checks her phone every six seconds while drinking coffee, doing the dishes, writing lesson plans and updating Facebook all at once. It’s like practicing all year as an orthodox fighter and then trying to win the tournament as a southpaw.
This year I have dedicated my vacation to getting to know (Good) Old Me instead of trying to leave her behind with the dirty dishes. I have set aside the quest for the mystical vacation mind-set. It hasn’t fixed anything but it has made me more aware of when I am literally stressing myself out over which thing would maximize my vacation time the most: napping or staring at the waves. And in those moments of allowing myself to just be myself, I find my Old Me gets to take a big deep breath of ocean air.
Now what does Vacation have to do with Boxing? You’ll have to wait until next week when I’m back in the Gym for that link!