24 Nothing To Do For Six Days
Let’s consider another famous expat. What did Robinson Crusoe do when he was stranded on that desert island, completely alone? He had to develop an entirely new life with new routines. An expat is voluntarily shipping off to his own version of Rob’s island, albeit one that is presumably inhabited and comes with many goods and services. What should that lifestyle look like? As an expat, with jet fuel fumes still clinging to your clothes, you get to choose.
Now, consider a much more common situation. Instead of a complete Robinson Crusoe shift, what do we do when we have a more modest disruption to our normal routines? What do we do with this opportunity? Do we even see it as an opportunity? This situation arises much more frequently than the massive transborder relocation shock.
In modern times, with the double-edged sword of technology allowing us to stay connected and productive – and, alas, accessible – 24/7, it is easy to stay busy, busy, busy. Indeed, such a lifestyle is the backstory of many an expat, describing their life before they went shrieking off across the time zones. But, even when our life is going well and we are doing the meaningful, enjoyable activities that we have deliberately chosen, expats can also slip into a pattern of being hyper-busy. We become like a dog chasing its own tail. Then, to use Stephen Covey’s delightful analogy, while we are hacking a road through our new jungle, we may become so focused on busyness (efficiency) that we lose sight of our objective and veer off in wrong, meandering directions (effectiveness). This is what Papa Hemingway meant when he said to never confuse activity with motion.
Let’s further explore this concept with the following story from my life. I am recalling an incident that is a perfect example. What do you do when you suddenly find your busyness temporarily disrupted?
This incident began innocently enough. My wife and son were going out of town for a few days on a spontaneous summer vacation trip. Subsequently, I would be experiencing a week when I could do almost whatever I wished. Given an unexpected week of greatly increased free time, my first impulse was to significantly expand my workload while unrestricted by my two roommates’ work, sleep, and play schedules. I grinned in anticipation.
Then I remembered that the French origin of the word “vacation” meant “to vacate”, as in “to leave”. Because of some commitments, I could not actually leave home to go on my own holiday trip. But I could at least leave my regular schedule. Thus, I decided to take those six days as my own vacation, in the sense that I would be skipping many of my regular activities. The objective would be to utilize this opportunity to take a break from my habitual busyness.
Let’s consider that famous expat from the past, the American writer Ernest Hemingway. Living in Cuba, Papa had a sprawling, semi-rural home, Finca Vigia (Lookout Farm)– “charming squalor” he called it - near Havana. It was only thirty minutes from the glamour and enticements of cosmopolitan Havana. It was also thirty minutes from his beloved boat, Pilar, which allowed him to regularly slip away and go deep-sea fishing on the Gulf Stream. For authorial purposes, Finca Vigia was also isolated enough to ensure privacy and quiet for his writing. Thrusting themselves into this enviable lifestyle, visitors would arrive, intent on talking business. Invariably, Hemingway would insist on a two- or three-day “cooling out” period before dealing with their issues. I’m sure that Hemingway’s guests, accustomed to the faster pace of life in the big cities of New York, Paris, London, and Hollywood, initially felt some frustration at being forced to “relax” and defer their business matters. Ultimately, however, they found this was a very effective, highly satisfactory way to conduct negotiations. More pleasant for the guests and host alike. In the process, they also drank a helluva lot of Papa’s booze and caught a lot of fish from the Pilar.
I decided to incorporate this “cooling out” concept into my own holiday week. My decision to use these six days for a personal vacation set in motion a whole train of thoughts. During the last days before their departure, as I was speculating about what I would do with this unplanned six days of freedom, I experienced a couple of moments of enlightenment. Perhaps you would also have these feelings when faced with an impromptu break from your normal schedule.
1) I felt some anxiety simply because of the anticipated change in my plans and normal routine. Change – even good changes that we chose – can be stressful and our body tends to resist change. Homeostasis is the term. Our mind resists change, too. Mental resistance to change can lead to confusion and, ironically, stress. Yes, preparing for a mental vacation can be quite stressful. How ironic.
2) In addition to the change-induced stress, there was the awareness that I would abandon my familiar, comfortable, efficient routines for a few days. In my normal day, my checklists replace a lot of decisions. Having a system in place with prepared lists and established routines is comfortable. I feel a sense of control – something that can be lost when facing an unstructured day. Regimentation can be a good thing.
3) Finally, I felt a sense of guilt at the prospect of a few days of stepping away from my commitments. I always have so much to do! (Don’t we all?) How could I stop everything and delay completing things that are underway? I had visions of how much productive work could be finished if I continued on the various projects while my family was away. Indeed, I could actually accomplish much more than a normal week, simply because I would be free of the continual interruptions and distractions and noise limitations when I try to work while they are at home.
I was thinking of how much I could get done! That last thought convinced me that a short vacation from my projects and my normal routines was precisely what I deeply needed. If I had become so totally immersed in my work that I felt I could not take time for a break, there was something wacky with my priorities. What’s wrong with this picture? No one is indispensable. It is this belief that we must keep running at full speed like a hamster inside a spinning wheel which adds significant amounts of self-inflicted stress and pressure. Indeed, we often delude ourselves that we need to run even faster, that we would be happier if we could produce more. Truly, when we begin to thus rationalize, it is time to step away for a short interlude. It is time to have a self-imposed, Hemingway-styled “cooling out”.
But, does anyone else see the irony? Why should a “simple life”, even a few days of it, require advance planning? Perhaps I had gone too far in creating routines and systems. Perhaps planning my days in great detail was adding to my stress. After several days of speculation about how I would enjoy my few days of alone time, here were my objectives:
Minimum routines – only true essentials
No planned exercise – impulse, spontaneous
No writing – brain on vacation, too
No publishing or marketing decisions
No studying
No planning of everything in advance
No housecleaning binge
No planning, staging, and “getting organized”.
As much as possible, stay offline and non-digital.
Possible Wild Indulgences: Extra coffee breaks; online movies; reading (escape fiction); fast food semi-binges; catching up on correspondence; medicinal doses of dark chocolate; cooking for myself; speculation about possible future projects; reading old journals; moving slowly; unwinding with long, meandering walks; unwinding with long, meandering mental walks down Memory Lane; going to dinner with a friend - if any of my busy, busy friends could get free. Fishing?
Mantra for the week: Keep it simple.
Wisconsin writer Gordon MacQuarrie penned a wonderful short story called “Nothing to Do for Three Weeks”. At the end of my six-day vacation, when my two roommates returned, I hoped I could say (as MacQuarrie wrote), “I used every day for what it was best suited. Can anyone do better?”
Everyone has these opportunities sprinkled throughout our lives but they seem to come more often for an expat. (Admittedly, perhaps they are just more visible.) What about you? If you were suddenly released for a few days from the constraints of your routines, jobs, schedules, commitments, and all the other busyness that fills our lives… what would you do in your “cooling out” period? Maybe the fact that this concept represents such a dramatic change from your normal life is trying to tell you something important. Maybe we can all learn from my momentary discomfort brought about by vacation-dread.