Refreshed and rewired from vacation

Vacation is peculiar, a real double-edged sword. We all need a break, of course, but the interlude for many often feels strange, as if something’s out of whack.

How many times do you hear someone say, “Man, I need a vacation,” then return to work with the familiar refrain: “I need a vacation from my vacation.”

We either do too much or too little during the allotted time, crossing off items on a to-do list that would shame Hercules or lazing in the sun feeling guilty that the house needs a coat of paint, the yard’s a mess and the kids have discovered that Magic Marker doubles as body paint.

I had a two-week break recently. Family from Ontario visited during the first week (see last week’s column) and I puttered around the second, cleaning, mowing, digging, cycling, reading.

I had plenty of personal space, did my own thing and reconnected. The kids were great, my wife and I shared some quiet time and I did my level best to leave work behind.

You’ve got to like that. But the truth is I was restless by the time it was over. I can’t dampen an innate curiosity for what’s happening around here: who torched the sign in front of Kingstec? Will they have Raymond Field back in shape before football season? Why is enrolment down at Acadia? How serious is the crop damage after that freak hailstorm? Will the Wildcats’ bats come alive later this season?

This is what percolated as I read Patricia Cornwell’s Cruel and Unusual; cycled to Centreville and back each day; played in the yard with the kids; and sipped beer from a can while catching a few rays.

You can’t turn it off, no matter how much vacation time you take, and I know myself well enough to give these notions some breathing room. They’re as undeniable as the demand is aggressive when you return.

Did I have a good vacation? Absolutely; the best in a long time, in fact. It was all about family, friends, catching up and maybe – just maybe – getting ahead.

It’s no small feat, and a difficult trick to turn for someone like me who thrives on occupational immersion. It’s weird, too, how accustomed we get to the hamster wheel and how disorienting it is simply to step off.

I needed time to adjust, rewire the circuits and reconfigure my thinking. And just as I managed to ascend to a new plane of consciousness, ba-boom!

Vacay’s over and I’m back to work, striving to strip the new wiring and retool a rested brain. Geez; makes you wonder if it was worth it, huh?