in a holiday state of mind

As a freelancer, I’m lucky enough to be able to shape my own schedule. I can set meetings that steer clear of rush hour, and  can write deep into the night if that’s when the juices are flowing. If I edit until 5 am, I can opt to sleep in that morning. And if I my weekend takes me from one shoot to the next, I usually compensate by taking Monday off.

But even if I’m able to declare my own personal holidays, it still feels extra special when a real, official one rolls around. It’s one thing to able to take a break when I need one — and a totally other thing when everyone else gets to take one with me. As the traffic lightens, so does the mood, and the world breathes a collective sigh of relief. Suddenly, we have the license to think less, enjoy more, and all our otherwise pressing concerns can be set aside and dealt with at some other time. It becomes so much easier to stop and smell the roses, live in the moment, and experience just about every other saying there is when we're not chasing after — or rushing towards — the next entry on our to-do list. 

This is something I really sensed today as I felt the joy of not having to do anything permeate the afternoon. The mood reminded me of an article I stumbled upon last night about a 102-year-old man named Stamatis Moraitis, whose cancer was miraculously cured when he moved to the Greek island of Ikaria — a quiet place where life is simple and the cadence easy. A place where so many residents live far into their 90s, it is now referred to as the island where people simply forget to die.  

Experts believe that it has a lot to do with the fresh air, and healthy food — but also venture that the locals’ pace, and their attitude has just as much to do with their longevity. On Ikaria, people wake up when they feel like it, tend to their crops, walk and up and down the isle’s steep slopes, eat simple meals, take afternoon naps, then gather with friends at the day’s end. The relentless pursuit of the next best thing would probably baffle the Ikarians as they are perfectly happy with what they already have.

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/10/28/magazine/the-island-where-people-forget-to-die.html?pagewanted=all

The article, in turn, reminded me of what Anna often says about the Lord's Prayer: The Our Father is true wisdom because of its emphasis on our daily bread. It's all we can really do — just live one day at a time. We've been assured in that prayer that God will give us what we need each day. There's no need to overwhelm ourselves with thoughts of the future or the past.

Which is not to say that we should all quit our jobs and move to remote islands, or just sit back and wait for God to do all the work. But there's something to be said about truly living in each moment and trusting that we are where we should be, and that we already have all we need. If we simplify, rest, eat what is good for us, and connect with those we love, we may chance upon a rhythm that allows us to tune in to who we are, and what we really need. Will honking the horn at gridlock get us to the next appointment any faster? Will bending over backwards for yet another car get us to where you really want to be? And do we really "have to" be at every event we push ourselves to attend?

We may not have the luxury of living in a perpetual vacation, but asking the right questions and reflecting on our answers may help shift our perspective. And if we really must head back to face the daily grind, having a more detached attitude will at the very least, help grease the wheels when we do. 

Here's to holidays and the happiness they allow us. May they refresh and recharge us as they remind us of what really matters.

tata