Ramblings from the Road

Vacation/Retreats are so important. I knew that. Honestly, I did. But this time ... I really understood the importance.

In my normal urban environment, there is so much hustle and bustle, and a lot of stress. I knew it was bad, but I didn’t realize quite how tightly I was coiled and how much I ached from all the hunching, until I could retreat and unwind. Aside from the mountains miles away, there is nothing looming overhead and no tunnels to crawl through. The open empty spaces help you to drop your defensive body postures. You can lie out in the sun and let the heat bake the ache out of sore muscles and bones. The quiet allows you to empty your mind of negativity and anxiety. The disconnect from your regular environment, and from electronica, allows the brain to slow down. Sleeping also helps heal the body and calm the soul. Dreaming becomes more vivid, as the natural sleep cycle isn’t interrupted by alarm clocks or the noise. (I'd rather look at this versus this!)

Sometimes in New York, it’s so noisy, you sometimes cannot hear yourself think. I needed to go somewhere quiet. Out West, at the retreat, there were few, if any sounds. No highway noises. I almost didn’t know that the neighbors were there. There were no electric pulsing guitars underfoot. There was no building-shaking stomping neighbors overhead. There was no apartment-rattling slamming doors. There were no street sounds, no garbage trucks, no sirens, and just a few yipping dogs. Most importantly, there was no need to have the television or radio on all the time to drown out the background noise. It was so blessedly quiet, I could literally hear the ringing in my ears.

Vacation helps you to sloooooooooooow down. You need to remember how to work on a different speed. Instead of rushing to catch trains, subways, meet deadlines, rush through lunch, rush to the next thing, it was important to sleep in, enjoy the time difference, be lazy, and depending on the days’ activities, learn patience.

When vacation means spending lots of time with little nieces and nephews, you learn to have slow down and make plans only in a general sense. You learn that it may take twice as long to do things, especially with independent little ones who “can do it MYSELF.” You learn to have patience to deal with all of their questions, tantrums, pouts, snits, potty trips, and their vastly variable speeds, from dragging their feet at new situations, to their darting quickness, especially in parking lots. You learn patience at meal times, when kids will take forever to eat their food, but will scarf up their treats as soon as you turn your back. You learn patience because the nieces and nephews will try new stunts with you, because they think that Auntie doesn’t know what their rules are. (Oh no kiddies, Auntie Nettie knows your tricks!)

You learn to treasure the little moments and the unedited childlike reactions—like Drew’s “non-reaction” when I showed up.

No really, kiddo, I loved the fact that you were like so what?! “But Moooom. I can’t find my shirt!” That was more precious to me than a faked reaction. You have family dropping by all the time. Why should Auntie Nettie’s appearance be any different? I loved all my time with you. I love how you get endlessly amused at bad chicken crossing the road jokes, the laughs at McDonalds, and how much fun you had at the arcade just putting tokens in the slot machines, not to mention all the games. For me, spending time with you was fun just being with you, and, strangely, for the deja vu. Sometimes, it was looking back in time and playing with your father again at that age. If you ever saw me laughing at some thing you did or naughtiness you pulled, I couldn’t help it. Because I probably had seen it before, or was the instigator, like I was 30 some odd years ago.

Amber, my little chip off the old genetic block, I’m so happy that you were happy to see me. Last time I was there, you were still so shy and uncertain about all kinds of strangers. To have you give me a hug right off the bat, and to eventually clamber up for snuggles and a story, was just as wonderful to me as having you be sassy and then get in trouble with your Momma. (I know that Momma may not agree about the sassiness.) You are quite the limber little monkey.

My little Ellebelle has probably changed the most since I saw her last, and, happily, is not a bit shy with strange aunties that show up at her house. At 14 months, you can tell that part of her wants to be just like her big sister. She’s running to catch up, and her communications skills, verbal, visual, and non-verbal are great. I love how you can just see her processing new information and figuring things out. We had a few minutes alone together one day after her nap, when we were sitting together alone on a couch, and she was staring at me with the most quizzical look on her face. Elle kept going “Poppa?” (Close, honey, but not quite.) You see Amber, their Dad, and I all have the same features, and now all of our hair is about the same length, texture, and color. No wonder the kid was confused.

Now the kids’ strange Auntie Nettie needs to learn how to internalize all the lessons that she learned on this trip. From how to find the quiet moments in a hustle-bustle noisy environment to de-stress; how to listen to the still quiet voice within; how to find the absurd silliness in bad classic jokes; how to play well with others even when you can’t understand while they can’t catch up; how to communicate better when my interpersonal and verbal skills aren’t that good; and how to patiently wait until the next time I can go on a much-needed retreat.

Sadly, I’ve been back a few days now, and can already feel the vacation relief wearing off. My tolerance level for the grime and noise has to be built back up, and I can already feel the defensive hunch coming back. The first days of work, the commute, and the adjustment to the time change was really a test of my patience.

Thank goodness it’s only a four-day week!