Vacay Revelation: Less Special = More Special

This Summer I’m getting to re-learn a lesson for myself and my teen, or rather, re-learn a lesson from my teen. The lesson is that for him - and for myself - and for us, the most special times frequently are the least “special” times. The ones I haven’t planned and orchestrated. The ones where we are in the same space without screens and get to see what happens.

What happened yesterday is I made snow angels on the living room rug while he played drums on the sofa. I patted the dog and he tried to figure out how to get a new battery into my key fob. I ate pretzels.

I read a sci fi book he recommended even though that isn’t my genre of choice and we got to talk about what part I was at. He read the second book in the series and relished giving  unhelpful teaser hints about what was to come. I drank lemon water, he politely declined same.

I noticed my strong inner impulse to create activity - more active activity - and resisted the urge to break the flow. We did not need to do or go or accomplish. I did not need to succumb to my hunger for action or inflict it on my kid, who seemed to be - who was - perfectly content - content content - hanging out.

Before the beginning of Summer I had  plans, ideas, and ambitions for what my teen and I might do with the off-school season. Some of those things have come to fruition, some not.

In certain cases, forces outside my control required revising my ideas of what the Summer would hold for us.

In some cases, I noticed that what he and I thought he would want to do and what he actually wanted to do were different. So we, well I, changed our plans based on new data. (Insert casino jackpot music and horns here.)

For myself, I like a full daily schedule. I do have morning and evening routines that include a set number of minutes of quiet time. That said, my days tend to be filled with appointments and activity and blocks for work. That is very different from a schedule that looks like:

Afternoon/evening - lie on living room floor, see what happens.

Historically, I have not been as fluid as I’d like to be at letting go of my plans, my conceptual idea of what my day should look like in favor of what feels good, appropriate - in flow, if you will.

I used to think that backing off from go-go-go — even on vacation — would automatically put me into sloth-sloth-sloth and a parade of horribles — isolation, depression, ill health, lovelessness. I’m learning, I’ve learned, that backing off plans that don’t feel good is actually the gateway to my best life. I’m gonna keep going.