“It’s summer!” holler the hydrangea’s gazing at me from the side of our home…or at least that is what I hear when I encounter their beautiful blues, precious pinks, and wholesome whites.

This year they have arrived in abundance; that was not the case last summer, however. I remember waiting patiently for their buds to transform, which happened quietly and sparingly, as if they were considering taking a season off.

And I am sure there is some scientific reason for this, or maybe I did not prune correctly or adequately reinforce the soil. I don’t know.
But I would like to think that hydrangeas, like us, need time off to recharge and refuel so that they can come back stronger, more vibrant, and more beautiful.

I have just returned from my own time off - a week away - and I highly recommend it.

To be honest, I am not much of a vacationer. I am a homebody, which may sound boring, but simply stated means - I like to be home.
I like my routine, my cats luxuriously lounging across the keyboard of my computer, and my dogs nudging me to throw a ball from the back porch.

I like to climb into my own bed at night with my electric heating pad - even when it’s 90 degrees - and my daily conversations with Pete, our postman. And I like to make my coffee exactly the way I like it and then drink it from my favorite mug.

And if I am being completely honest, being at home feels safe. Flying makes me nervous, changing time zones is exhausting, the logistics of travel are frustrating, and packing and unpacking - and then packing and unpacking, and then packing and unpacking again - my carry-on with a week’s worth of clothes…is annoying.

Is it all worth it?

Much has been said about the benefits of time off; even the very act of planning a break can be valuable. Our mind gets uncluttered, our stress levels drop, and without attending to a long list of to-do’s, we are able to be more creative and more productive.

And if you need convincing, Lin-Manuel Miranda conceived of Hamilton while on vacation.

“It’s no accident that the best idea I’ve ever had in my life — perhaps maybe the best one I’ll ever have in my life — came to me on vacation,” he shared. “The moment my brain got a moment’s rest, Hamilton walked into it.”

And although Hamilton did not walk into my uncluttered brain while I was away, I did have moments where I was enlightened by new learning and broader thinking.

Let’s start with the fanny pack that I brought with me – and, as the name suggests, belongs on the fanny. What I learned on our trip is that the fanny pack is no longer worn on the fanny, but rather across the chest. Fascinating.

And I was reminded that it’s a big world out there and that there are many ways to live a life, and that my way may not be the best way. And how different my life would be had I been born in a small fishing village in Norway or on a farm at the foot of a glacier rather than in the United States, just outside of New York City.

And that change in perspective is a gift. It makes me more humble - and even grateful - knowing I really had no part in that decision.

And although looking out my window at the Long Island Sound is beyond breathtaking, so is the view from the top of a mountain or along the cobblestone streets of an ancient civilization.

I worry when I travel that I will eat too much and come home heavier, but somehow, I always feel lighter, no matter what the scale says.

Because those worries that weigh me down are lifted, as if the distance traveled has allowed me to unload and unleash.

It’s strange. I do not even realize the weight until it’s gone, because I had grown so accustomed to it. All of those things that felt critically important seem to shift into proper place and no longer feel critical.

And going away pushes me out of my comfort zone, and going away with my husband makes me stare down my greatest fears.

He is an adventurer at heart. Me, not so much.

So whether it is hanging off the side of a cliff, feeling the turbulent air from the inside the cabin of a fixed blade aircraft, or breathing deeply from a sea kayak in rough waters, it reminds me that I am alive, and I am always better for having pushed through that which had been holding me back.

On vacation, the sometimes-fledging spiritual part of me ignites. I look out at the pure beauty of a fjord created thousands and thousands of years ago by a retreating glacier and stand in awe of the perfection. Or I count the number of places of worship that are constructed everywhere, no matter how small the settlement, quaint the hamlet, or large the city. These places are lovely and divine and they reinforce my faith and chip away at my own doubt.

It is clear to me that time away is valuable, but even time spent doing less is beneficial.

I take an exercise class in town, and a very fit instructor mentioned to me that her body is always sore. She said she creeps out of bed in the morning, muscles aching.

I asked her if she ever takes a day off? Well, no.

And yet, our bodies, like our minds and souls, need time to recover.

So, whether it’s airplane mode or do not disturb on your iPhone, or your company voicemail stating, “Hi you have reached … I will be out of the office until ...,” we need to pause and unplug.

Without rest, our lives are achy and unsustainable, and we want more than to sustain - we want to thrive.

“You’re back!” shout the hydrangeas, strutting their stuff proudly in a breeze. I toss my bursting carry-on aside, tired from the travel, happy to see the cats waiting for me at the computer and the dogs eyeing me from the back porch with balls in their mouths.

And this simple moment, the return, may be my favorite part of any journey, because being away gives me the chance to miss what I have, and long for that which I have taken for granted.

Home.