Living-Deliberately.com

I’ve learned something about myself in this previous year and I don’t think I’m anywhere near the only person who does it. Maybe part of it’s the greater American culture at large and maybe another portion comes from being the child of entrepreneurial parents, that self-employed sub-culture that sets it’s own hours and knows very acutely that “when it rains, it pours”, “you gotta get while the gettin’s good”, and “no work, no eat”. And perhaps another portion of the root is just how I’m wired. Regardless, it “is”, and regardless, it needs to be worked on.

• I feel the need to apologize when I’m weak
• I feel the need to justify needing rest, or time off

Self-employed people don’t get vacation days. Neither do Mommies. We, unlike some portions of the population with vacation days and personal days and flex time and parental leave and whatever-they-come-up-with-next-to-pad-a-benefits-package, have to build in our own relief time. On the work end, I totally get this. Sundays have long been days of rest. Creative minds often do much of their work in their heads (when it looks like we are doing nothing of consequence at all) and then in one purgy-push of a day later it all comes spilling out in uber-productive days. There’s a natural ebb and flow to it. And maybe on the Mommy end I understood it as well: children need multiple adults in their lives, ideally two committed parents, and tag-teaming can be essential sometimes. Running a household and managing multiple schedules is just too much for one single person to do alone all the time.

But I don’t think my previous decade supported this honest need. For years, “vacations” were spent with critical in-laws; weeks spent with argument and stress and family drama. When that failed to produce relaxation (duh), we switched to work-at-home vacations: weeks full of projects with an unrelenting pace. This gave the half of “us” who went to an office every day a change of scenery but I never left my daily environment and those weeks contained all my usual work load plus a lot more. In 13 years we took one family vacation. We averaged a few date nights a year and I took two weekend trips with girlfriends. Compound this with the particular stress of a relationally toxic household, where weakness was criticized and perfection was constantly striven for and what you have is one exhausted family with an unhealthy pattern of all work and very little play. Or sleep for that matter.

Fast forward several months, a divorce, a growing business, public school, and many, many therapy sessions later. My therapist is fond of reminding me, “You don’t owe anyone an explanation” (in regards to boundary setting). But the drive to defend myself is still very strong. I can feel my throat flush red, tightening, struggling to find the words that will make the tense moment smooth over. Old fear is there, that I won’t say the right thing and a painful consequence is headed my way. The people in my life are not the offensive or abusive type and patiently wait and listen. It’s been freeing and relaxing and I can see the steps toward progress. Respect has replaced threat; it’s a whole new world.

But the other day I got sick. Not terribly so but enough to where I couldn’t maintain my pace and needed to depend on someone else to get through a few hours. Pretty human of me, pretty human for everyone. I was fine recognizing the need and crawling under the covers and shutting out the world for a bit. Not so much knowing that in my absence others were helping out with my responsibilities. I apologized profusely, which actually seemed to offend the one caring for me. “We all need it” was the chastisement and they were right. No one is super-human, everyone is tired sometimes, no one really lives in a bubble.

On the larger scale looms time away…. dare I call it “vacation”? My life is still written in pencil, not quite yet to the point where I’ll approach a calendar with pen. Days fluctuate, flexibility has to rule, there is no room for the former rigidity or even monotony and maybe some of this is the flip side of isolation. A life filled with people and events is going to have an element of unpredictability. But some things are becoming increasingly set: the school calendar with days off, sports schedules, dance recitals. Other things haven’t changed: the seasons change and the result of that on property. And still others continue on: court dates and hearings and unresolved issues that will eventually find their end. With this increase in routine has come the birthing of that light at the end of the tunnel, days to look forward to, and a hunger for a breather along the way.

And right there lies the rub. I’m not quite “there” yet, and “there” is not a place where some corporation is going to grant permission for a set number of days away. If there is going to be a place in my life where I can “put in” for my vacation and unapologetically take some time in a fresh environment, it’s going to have to be of my own making.

The temptation to take that time and justify it via work projects is huge. In my past experience, breaks are taken after exhausting levels of work (you gotta earn it after all). Time off that doesn’t include productivity is almost a sin. Apology attempts to cover the guilt for having the need and daring to meet it. Expense must be explained.

Where real grace and growth will be is when rest is granted without any other explanation other than humans sometimes need it. Taking it before exhaustion sets in is healthy and stable. Recognizing the need and answering it sans guilt is to know and love one’s self. It can be as simple as a cup of tea or coffee in a quiet room some afternoon or as complex as a private retreat for a few days. Maybe for some it’s a complete step away from their reality by going some place very unrelated to them, like an amusement park or a missions trip or a foreign country. Maybe it’s getting your nails done, taking a walk in the fresh air, or sleeping in after too many alarm-clock days. There’s not a thing in the world wrong with admitting we feel tired and need a break now and then.

I have a hunch that the people who get in a huff when someone else is weak are driven by their own fatigue, need to justify, or perfectionist tendencies. Or, perhaps, it all comes down to envy. Those are thoughts for another day though because for now, there’s this log in my own eye, penciled-in days off on my calendar, and the post-it on my bathroom mirror reminding me that: “You’re human. No further explanation necessary.”

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