Once again, dear Readers, a gold star to the first reader who can identify the musical reference for this entry's title.
I am now officially on vacation. Today is actually day two, although I recognized my vacation status at 5pm on Friday as I left work, whistling a happy tune.
Short on spendable cash, we have opted for a home-based vacation for the next week with a few day trips, maybe a night of camping---maybe not---and that leisurely feeling of nowhere to go each morning. That said, the trick for me during a home-based vacation is to somehow not get caught up in doing too much, allowing myself time for being. Granted, I plan to finish laying some stonework for our ersatz patio, clean the gutters, and maybe begin shuffling papers in preparation for the new semester of teaching, but I need to remind myself daily---nay, hourly---that this nurse needs a break from doing too much, and I should just revel in being paid a very good hourly wage for simply being home and resting on my laurels. (Just what are laurels, anyway?)
I'm sure that my patients will come to mind daily, and I'm equally certain that there will be moments when I'm just too focused on what's begging to be done. Still, vacation can also mean vacating one's mind, one's habitual ways of being, the ruts that are so well-worn that it seems one's wheels can never stop turning in them. My ruts are chasms, gorges, even canyons of habitual action and thought. Can I vacate those traps for seven days and redirect my wheels? Can I simply sit here "watchin' the wheels" (a la Mr. Lennon) and laugh at their absurdity?
Stay tuned as Our Hero attempts to overcome himself and yet be more of himself than ever.