Stay up, sleep in, eat chili-mac three days in a row.
Catch up on cleaning, strip all the beds, clear space in the house and my head and set to work painting or making a book or sewing or all three, more or less at once.
Take the long walk to the post office and exchange a few sentences , just to be sure my voice still works.
Play music at all hours of the day and night.
Watch junk TV or no TV at all.
Dust, vacuum, daydream.
Put every thing in order.
Sleep on clean sheets and wake up when I feel like it.
Unplug the phone if I want to .
Let the wind blow through the house all day and read a whole book in a few days instead of in dribs and drabs over breakfast.
Be entirely selfish, because there is no-one else I need to consider.
Renew myself, because I am not giving anything away.
Five hours of solitude a day is not too much.
Half an hour is not nearly enough.
I am drained by the company of others, however much I enjoy it.
I am an introvert. I need time alone to be able to thrive, to feel alive, to be.
I wrote this one day at work when filing articles-about-artists-in-the-permanent-collection had temporally palled, and I couldn’t face another one for a while.
It really is my idea of a holiday though, which is why I love this poem by Joseph Campbell, from his ‘Reflection on the Art of Living’.
It takes courage
to do what you want.
have a lot of plans for you.
Nobody wants you to do
what you want to do.
They want you to go on their trip
but you can do what you want.
I did. I went into the woods
and read for five years.
What about you? What’s your idea of a ‘holiday‘, where that means renewing yourself, rather than necessarily travelling somewhere?