Stillness & Silence

In just twenty-four hours, Abbi and I will be on a plane bound for Bonaire. Oddly, I don’t feel like I deserve a vacation.

Historically, I work myself into some sort of frenzied, anxious state, or — worse — make myself deathly ill before it occurs to me to take some time off to regroup. Or my vacation consists of eighty hours of driving punctuated by a few blissful minutes onstage (followed by deathly illness).

This year, however, is The Year of Fun. (Last year was The Rebuilding Year, in case you’ve lost track.) Having spent the last three years living varying degrees of a hypomaniacal, over-committed (in terms of actual events), under-committed (in terms of relationships), and generally on-the-run existence, I decided to try another approach. there’s an argument that says motion and sound are distraction; reflections begs for stillness and silence. And reflection begets growth, which is what I’m after.

So, just a few days after our amazing week in Honduras, I began lobbying Abbi for another week of scuba diving well prior to next winter. Hence we’re going to Bonaire.

Why don’t I feel like I deserve it? I guess because I’m neither exhausted, nor sick. Plus, I just spent a four day weekend doing nothing. There is, of course, the argument for preemption (which, by the way, does not extend to global politics). Maybe it’s healthier to get ahead of the crazy and the choas. Maybe it behooves us to pause before our bodies force us to.

So I’ll soldier on. I’ll throw our tanks into our Jeep, drive to a far corner of the island, wade in, and descend. It will be still and silent below the waves. I will reflect. It will be good.