How did it feel to spend nine days in Hawaii with my BFF from New Zealand, you ask? Friggin amazing! But how did it feel to come home and face reality? Not friggin amazing.
We had THE BEST holiday. We met in Oahu to mark our 40ths, and with the wisdom and life experience of a 41-year-old, I was mentally (if not emotionally) prepared for the potential ups and downs of a trip abroad. We’ve all fallen into the trap of getting overly excited for a trip, only to discover we’ve booked the wrong dates, our passport is no longer valid, it rains every day, or we get the most violent stomach flu known to man. Nary a negative thing happened (okay, well, I did book a non-refundable, non-transferable night at an airport hotel for the week after my trip, but what’s a couple hundy in the grand scheme of things?).
We spent each day walking between places to get iced coffee, to places to get fresh salmon poke bowls, to the warm waters of Waikiki Beach, to palm trees to read under, to ice cream places in fancy resorts, back to the Airbnb for a nap, then to the pool for a swim, on repeat. Not to mention nonstop chatting and proper catchups the entire time. I know for some of you (looking at you, babe) that’s a nightmare of a holiday, but for me it was the most basic of basic white girls’ holidays, and I was HERE FOR IT.
On day three, I was aware that I still wasn’t fully relaxed on the inside, so I booked a massage, and (literally) got the stuck energy punched out of me – after which my body was unbelievably relaxed for the remaining time. Funny story – my massage therapist basically had no English, so I tried to explain to her that we’d walked a half-marathon in jandals the day before, and please be super gentle with my calves (like I could barely even touch them, they were SO sore). Naturally, she thought I was asking for extra attention on my calves – so she punched them. Lots. Felt great the next day though.
I felt the most present I ever have on a holiday and I soaked in every bit of loveliness.
Now, full disclaimer, I have a really good life; a great relationship with my husband, two cute healthy sons, a job, home, town, and people I love. So, I didn’t really expect to feel much upon returning home. But boy did I. Overwhelmed – really overwhelmed. My body was janked from a flight home getting kicked and punched awake by an overtired/wired 6-year old girl every 15 minutes or so. And my youngest was recovering from a stomach bug and was in that mostly better, but still not great zone – you know the one? His big emotions were just too much to handle after all that serenity.
A few days after getting home, and feeling my lovely, relaxed vibe slowly leeching out of me (‘like sands through the hourglass…’), I got up for my Monday morning run in a funk. But after about ten minutes of jogging, something within me steeled, and the phrase tickertaped through my mind, ‘I am an active agent in my own life’. (Please understand that I’m no poet/philosopher – I write little bits like this for my job, so it’s not surprising to have a wee ‘insight’ just pop into my head like this).
I felt suddenly empowered. That morning, I booked an appointment with the chiropractor, and then emailed my counsellor to set a session. Did the chiro help? Maybe. Did the therapy session help? Totally. But I think the most important thing from that whole exercise, was the acknowledgement that I am not a helpless bystander in my life – and neither are you.
There might only be one or two small things we can do today to improve our situation, but realising that we have some power goes a long way in making us feel like empowered people.
Love you friends,
From your very grateful, still tanned, but less-relaxed buddy,
Deb xx