I blogged a short while ago about Permission, but it occurred to me today that I had forgotten something vital. I had this small epiphany as I was walking on the beach today. Actually, it was quite sudden. I was feeling tired, overworked, under pressure, and just a little bit unwell, and thought a cup of tea and a sit down was probably the smarter remedy. But as soon as I slipped off my flip-flops and felt cool sand between my toes, I felt as if I could skip. I was suddenly and instantly having great fun; the proverbial weight had lifted off my shoulders is one swift, sweeping motion, and I felt great.
Who wouldn't?
I think really driven, hard-working people sometimes forget the power of just being and having fun, and actually feel guilty in those rare moments that they just chill-the-hey-out. I know I certainly do, all the time. And it is a very rare moment, even during my short bursts of recreation time, that I’m not working in some sense: nutting through plot problems (clients’ and students’ and my own), trying to tune in on my characters’ conversations, and even more wading through plot problems. (Lovely work, that work done while not at a desk, but tiring just the same—especially those plot problems, eh?)
So without agenda, and thanking the universe that I had no pressing work today, I gave myself permission to meander and take my time—and not really think about those things at all. I walk on the beach all the time, but this time was very different. I underwent a huge mental shift. And I felt rewarded for doing so, by all that it does take to recharge me and put me in my happy, creative place: beautiful things in nature*.
What recharges you?
*Nature: It’s brilliant, it’s simple, it’s free, and hopefully it’s in a place near you.
