The Comfortable Grind???

Americans are notoriously overworked. On holiday/vacation as I write this, I find I'm off kilter and foggy-brained, coming off the toxic mindset of "Go! Go! Go!" that is my daily work life.

It's been a year since we took any trip at all, and even then it was only four days. Prior to that, it had been three years since we'd taken any time off and gone on a trip. (Having a spouse in school will foul up the vacation calendar.) So it's quite out of the ordinary for me to be away from work for longer than 48 hours on a weekend, and I am perturbed to realize it's causing coping difficulties. I am untethered from texting; we have no cell service. (I will have to post this blog when we drive back into town to catch the ferry.) I rapidly consumed my backlogged magazines that I'd toted along, and now I will begin reading on the four books I brought along (a novel, a collection of short stories, a book on existentialism, and Sam Harris' The End of Faith.) My brain feels spasmed as it attempts to slow down and exist in the moment only, without prioritizing my next steps, scheduling what I can read/write before I have to dress and leave the cabin, and contemplating how I'll best access my email once I can connect to the Web again.

It's sickening that the Daily Grind is so comforting, with it's familiar breathless pace and stimulating interactions, and gazing at the trees by the lake or the fire in the hearth is so still that it feels smothering, deadening.