What comes after a “staycation?”

When we were told to shelter-at-home at the beginning of the pandemic, I heard many friends talking about our new lives like a “staycation.”* We cut air travel and all but the most essential trips outside the home.

We had more time.

(*I realize this wasn’t true for everyone.)

I organized my home, completed projects with my husband, and enjoyed the space.

Later that feeling of spaciousness disappeared as the world discovered Zoom and a wealth of online classes appeared. I enjoyed the abundance and indulged my inner learning-junkie.

I played the piano again. I meditated. I was never bored.

My schedule became full.

Life is getting blurry

I’m still enjoying the creative spurt that I’ve been on, but I’ve noticed some disturbing symptoms:

• Because I didn’t check my calendar, I blew two appointments I didn’t want to miss
• I have to think hard to know what day of the week it is.
• The weeks and months are blurring together.
• The often cool Northwest summer days are confusing me. Is summer really here?
• I don’t know when the political conventions are supposed to be.

When does a staycation end?

The word staycation was coined in 2005 by Canadian comedian Brent Butt in the television show “Corner Gas.” Now, the word’s in the dictionary.

Staycations, like vacations, were a break in work. They were supposed to have an endpoint.

What I’m experiencing is more like a beautiful drone that never seems to end, going on and on until at some point it fades.

I need more punctuation.

I’m taking a  ___”cation”

For the rest of this month, I’m taking a break. (I haven’t found the word for this.)

On a manual shift car, you have to pass through neutral when you shift. Otherwise, you grind the gears.

I want to feel that still point from which change can emerge.

I’ll resume this blog in early September. I may use the time to catch up on some things. Or maybe I won’t. I may spend more time writing my book. Or maybe I won’t.

I need to add some periods to my schedule in place of commas.

Rumor has it we’re in for the long haul.

How can we find breaks that feel like breaks in this time of ongoing uncertainty? 

I don’t know how it will work. In the meantime, I’ll miss you.