Often when I dream of vacation, I dream big. In a few weeks (provided the world and my family life hold stable), my partner, Shel, and I are headed to Vietnam and Cambodia. We’ve already been to more than 40 countries in 5 out of 7 continents and in all 50 states in the U.S. And while we’ve occasionally repeated a destination, the draw of going somewhere we haven’t been, with its promise of experiencing something entirely new and wonderful, has usually been a greater pull. We’re determined to get to many more hard-to-reach places before age or health drags us down.
And while all this travel has had its bumps, I can honestly say I haven’t regretted going anywhere I’ve been. I remember everything fondly: from the hours waiting on the side of the road for nearly non-existent buses to take us to the next town in Mexico, to trying to cross a street in India with eight lanes of cars, tuk-tuks, bicycles and motorcycles going every possible way and giving up, to randomly pointing at vegetables in the cooler at a restaurant in western China in expectation of a stir fry and ending up with ten separate vegetable dishes, to driving for days through the gorgeous but mostly deserted Quebec countryside to reach “au bout du monde” the place where “the world ends,” dropping off into the sea on the eastern edge of the stunning Gaspé penninsula.
But sometimes the small get-aways can pack a similar sense of wonder. Last week, to celebrate our 42nd wedding anniversary, we drove a whopping two hours across the state and spent three days exploring nature preserves and beaches in southeastern MA and southern Rhode Island. It was just what I needed.
Photo: D. Dina Friedman
While my home landscape (the one that evokes feelings of comfort, security and spiritual peace) feels firmly footed in deciduous forest here in Western Mass. and elsewhere in the Northeast (despite my birth roots in the littered concrete of Queens) I adore fresh breaths of beach: not only the damp salty air and heartbeat of the waves, but also the plants–rosehips bullrushes, searocket, and the quiet marshes with occasional glimpses of egret. All of it is just different enough to open up the wonder of being elsewhere. And my absolute favorite time to go to the beach is in October, when there’s nearly no one else there, especially when it’s tinged with fog, though we were blessed with the last of the sun before the winds picked up and a Nor’easter set in.
Going to a deserted beach, or really on any kind of vacation, is one of the ways I have of showing compassion for myself, which is not an easy thing for me. Today, as part of a 10-day meditation challenge focused on attaining a more positive self-belief mindset, I was asked to pick one thing I was annoyed with myself for. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that what popped into my head was: Not doing enough. That’s too general, I told myself. Pick one thing. But I couldn’t. Because, it’s rarely about one thing I’m not doing that I think I should do. It’s about everything I’m not doing–an onslaught of tasks, real or imagined, that spreads out before me like a “whack-a-mole” field.
But when I’m on vacation–whether, I’m in China or eastern Massachusetts, I’m able to put that ridiculous perfectionist-derived list aside and take pleasure in the beauty and wonder of the moment.
After we picked our “one” (or in my case–many) things we felt annoyed with ourselves about, we were instructed to first pay attention to the feelings this engendered. For me, that was sadness and a deep sense of inadequacy. Then we were asked to speak to ourselves with kindness and compassion, as we might speak to a close friend. I immediately flashed back to a conversation I’d had with a friend the day before who has been struggling with a number of challenges–how I told him, you are one of the most motivated people I know. Which was the absolute truth.
Now, can I say that to myself? Yes, I can probably give myself an A for motivation. Perhaps the issue is not my aspirational desire to do all the tasks I set before myself. I just need to give myself a reality check on what’s feasible, so I’m not mentally beating myself up for my inability to do more than I can possibly do.
It’s something to think about anyway as I look forward to another self-compassion break when we’re in Vietnam. Meanwhile, the blog is done. On to the next thing on my to-do list!