This is my week off from school. I am at a spa hotel with my pre-teen where we have access to all sorts of amenities but we remain remarkably attached to the privacy of our room.
We’re both fairly athletic beings and yet our appetite for the couch-hugging, terrace-lounging sedentary seems boundless in these few days. Call it rest. Call it a retreat. Call it surrender.
It surprises me to register how long it takes to actually relax. Even in favorable surroundings, released from several day-to-day responsibilities, I find it hard to let go. To enjoy without guilt. To indulge without regret. It’s a kind of built-in scarcity thinking almost as a way to counter the reality of abundance.
Instead of fully enjoying, I wonder/worry if I’m enjoying it enough. Instead of celebrating my freedom, I saddle my conscience with concerns of not being outgoing enough.
Tomorrow we pack up and head home, with a few days of vacation to spare. Perhaps I’ll find other means to unwind. To even stop turning the key.