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Wednesday, May 16, 2012

"How to Send Your Mind on Vacation"

It is that time of year again....graduation events, field trips, parties, deadlines, summer vacation planning, more parties, family reunions, hyperactive kids (and big kids), apathetic kids (and big kids), and more parties.  The list goes on, but there's to naming a few.

Busyness.

America focuses on it.  We will never admit it. We call it "extracurricular activities" or "errands" or "my to-do list" to spiffy it up a bit.  But whatever you call it, it is still busyness.

To cater to this time of year, I am republishing an article by Kate Meyers found in the Cooking Light magazine from August 2010. 

Maybe this is the reason that I do not blog as much as "I should."  It's because I love this idea of coupling a  vacation every day with the peace from God...I'd rather read the Bible or a magazine than write an article.

Enjoy!

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We yearn to relax, and we're programmed to do it during this supposedly lazy, supposedly slower time of the year.  But if you're like me, it just seems harder and harder to unwind in these high-stress times. Recently I decided to seek some counsel on the necessity and practice of ritual unplugging, so I called Edward Hallowell, MD, author of Crazy Busy: Overstretched, Overbooked, and About to Snap! I had read his book and knew he would have good advice.

But Hallowell threw me a curve ball, "I haven't had a vacation in two years," he said.

What? My first thought was that this guy needed to read his own book.  Then he added: "I don't think I need one.  I take vacations every day."

Which sounds like Ziggy reading from a Hallmark card, I know.  But as it turned out, Hallowell was talking about acquiring the skills to chill, every single day--rather as one might counsel daily, rather than yearly, exercise.

"I think we would do much better if instead of saving up our need to relax for two weeks or so in the summer, we learned how to do it all the time," Hallowell says. "Learn how to pace ourselves so we don't get worn out, so we don't inhabit what I call the 'F-state,' where you're frazzled, frenetic, and frenzied."

I'm the F-state poster girl.  My days are a spin cycle of work, kids, homework, soccer, dance, driving to and from soccer and dance, grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, friends, and workouts when I can--and repeat.  I'm blessed, to be sure, but the things I love being to feel like a chore.  At the end of the day, I'm wiped out.  Half the time I don't remember if it's shampoo or conditioner that I've put in my hair.  So, Doc, how does a person de-F her state?

"Don't do what you do every day.  Do the things you love," Hallowell answers.  "Exercise more.  Read a book.  Spend more time walking, talking, communicating, less time online." I went silent because, in fact, I already do those things.  Cramming them in is part of my F-state.

Time for a second opinion.

"In my view, the important function of a vacation is to get perspective," says Ken Robbins, MD, a genial clinical professor of psychiatry at the University of Wisconsin, who has worked with everyone from ordinarily stressed and distressed patients to, well, serial killers.  "It's hard in daily life to maintain what we mental health types call an 'observing ego,'" Robbins says, "which is the ability to watch yourself, to pay attention to yourself."

The effect of this, he adds, is that "When you compare Americans to people in other countries, we're not very good at keeping track of what makes us happy."  According to the doctor, it matters not whether you spend your vacation at a cooking school in Italy or stay in your own kitchen, if you can find your observing ego and understand what is winding you up:  A vacation is, forgive the pop-psychology speak, a state of mind.

"The key is to walk away from your usual routine and give yourself a chance to see what you enjoy when you don't have to work, when you don't have chores to complete."  This means letting go of errands and to-do lists, and getting away from your electronic devices of choice--the things we ideally flee when we go on a vacation (though the iPhone and e-mail are global and hard to resist; in Paris cafes you see American tourists thousands of miles from home scanning American blogs).  We can abstain from these things perfectly well at home, to similar vacation effect.

"Part of the purpose of a vacation is to get clear.  Sometimes we forget about the things we love to do," Robbins says.

Turn off the TV.  Leave a voice mail saying you're on vacation, put the e-mail on auto-respond, and stay away from Facebook, if you're into Facebook.  This certainly sounds cheaper than a week long beach getaway, doesn't it?  And in a way, this sort of unplugging can be more focused, too, because so often, on vacations, we fall prey to the same need for busy-ness that stresses us in our daily lives. (See this historic site! Explore that museum!)

Hallowell suggests that unplugging this way can allow us to realize that multitasking does not necessarily allow us to be at our best. "When we multitask, we don't do anything better," Hallowell argues.  The devices that allow us to do more than one thing at a time also make it hard for us to stop doing more than one thing at a time.

I'm guilty of this, and so is everyone I love.  I check my e-mail the minute I wake up, the minute I enter the house, and a few times an hour in between--even when I have no reason to do so. 

When my cell phone broke recently, I began to understand how self-perpetuated some of this craziness is.  Free of the cellular umbilical cord, feeling much calmer, I found myself noticing again the glorious Colorado mountain views that brought me here in the first place. 

"It's good to discover that the world doesn't need you that much," says Hallowell.  "It takes a tremendous burden off of you.  The brain needs to shut down; it can't work 24/7."

Hallowell has had a standing date every Tuesday for the last 28 years to play squash with his best friend.  He makes a point of cooking with his wife and tossing a ball in the yard with his Jack Russell terrier (hardly a model of a chill breed, mind you).  These and similar things constitute his daily vacation time because they are done consciously and attentively.  Thinking about this, it struck me as less Hallmark, more wise.

If the economy has dictated a home-based vacation, use the time to really unplug.  Make a few rules, and observe yourself in the unplugged state.  Then carry the impulse into daily life.  The habit of being over-busy can become the habit of being less busy, allowing for more time to be fully immersed in your own life. And that's bigger than a vacation--that's a gift.
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But better than a vacation is eternal rest.  Check out how can I get saved.