I Let Myself Vacation

Some people long to get away from normal life and lay in the sand. Daily life and work are something to endure until the weekend, or vacation. My old business partner used to say, "I want to retire in a few years and live on a beach drinking pina coladas." I thought that sounded terrible. Wouldn't you get sick of that after about two days? Wouldn't you want to make some contribution to society?

So here I am in Florida, and it's day six. I gave up wrestling with the wifi on day four and now my biggest accomplishment is that my arms are browner than ever and my thighs are getting stronger from biking all over town. I can admit that I have a productivity complex. More realistically though, I'd rather admit that it's more satisfying for me to spend a day moving forward than a day sitting still. 

Two nights ago I bought a neon yellow pool floaty to accompany me to the ocean. I swam out beyond the crashing waves, deep into the stiller waters. I was surprised how calm it was out there, with gentle ripples and no forces to fight. The sun was low in the sky, approaching my favorite time: dusk. The sky made milky pink and purple magic. I've been on boats before but I can't remember ever being on the water when all I could see was the sunset above the ocean. No boat, no land or trees in sight--just a swirl of color above the darkening waves.

Something strange happened. I felt suddenly calm. I stopped thinking about when to head back or what I was doing next with my family. I swam until I could hardly hear the tourists on the shoreline. And then I just rested my head on the tube and watched the sky transform from one vision of brilliance to another. I forgot time.