Sun, sand and stubborn ideas

When the muse misses the memo

I’ve always been able to switch off once I’m on holiday, but the run up is another story. In my plight to get everything done [whatever that means] I’m not much fun to live with.

The return is even worse. By the end of my first day back you’ll usually find me with my head in my hands, staring at my inbox and wondering if it was worth taking a break at all.

Last year as I headed into my main summer break I declared my intention to consciously slow down either side of my time off and avoid this loop. I managed a slight shift, but this year I’ve regressed. I must have. I am literally surrounded by piles of washing, waiting to be sorted and placed into suitcases - and I’m writing this.

Because it needs to be done. Before I go. Doesn’t it?

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Our annual holiday is sacred time. Two weeks with with my loved ones. No cooking. No cleaning. No Zoom calls. No email. No social media. No obligations of any kind. I’m particularly looking forward to the daily water Zumba. There are few better things in life than dancing with strangers, whilst in a swimming pool, under the Greek sun.

But I’m noticing a creative energy unfurling within me at what is a most inconvenient time. On Sunday I spent two hours locked in my office, attempting to get it out of my system. But it’s still here - with no sign of leaving.

My plan had been to take a break from writing Glitter and Biscuits on our holiday. Pause work on my book. Leave the unfurling vision for my new work project well alone. Especially that. It’s work after all.

But the thought of defining, so rigidly, what I will and won’t pay attention over the coming weeks feels off.

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A few years back I read the book Rest: Why You Get More Done When You Work Less. Drawing from scientific research, it illustrates how deliberate rest can foster creativity, challenging the conventional belief that relentless work leads to success.

I don’t remember the nuances of the book, but today the title jars. It implies work and rest are wholly separate things. One fuelling the other. The term ‘get more done’ doesn’t do justice to what creativity means to me.

What if what we are making, regardless of whether we are being paid to do it or not, fills us up. What if stopping entirely just because we’re donning a bikini, feels wrong? What if denying ourselves those things our soul is calling us to dream up, actually reduces the enjoyment of our vacation?

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Whilst a full-time employee I did not for one moment, ever contemplate working whilst on holiday. I left my work phone at home, and did not deviate even once. Whether I was away, or at home, my holidays were mine.

But that’s because I was being paid to care. My work held some meaning, but not much. It was a job and I was entitled to my 25 days of annual leave [aka freedom.]

Holidays were also a time to make up for all the moments I’d missed with my children. The guilt was as strong a driver as my need to switch off entirely for my own mental health and physical wellbeing.

But my life is not set up that way anymore. I don’t work five days a week, and when I do it’s certainly not for sixty hours plus.

I enjoy more quality time with my children than ever. Our holiday is an opportunity for more of the same. But I have nothing to compensate for.

And my paying work - and the other projects I devote myself to - are not a job. Far from it. They are borne of my heart and soul.

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I took more than 200 photos and videos on our family holiday last summer, but it is only this morning - almost a year later - that I have paused to look at them properly.

Most afternoons I took on a solitary walk along the beach. Our hotel was on an isolated stretch of coastline, the sea on the shore the only sound. The Greek sun low in the sky.

We’re returning to the same spot this year. Allowing myself to re-connect with what that will feel like, is having me take a deep breath.

It’s helping me see what I need.

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What I don’t need is more rules.

I need freedom.

Full permission.

Permission to follow what feels true and right, regardless of whether it is designated holiday time or not.

Permission to flow with that.

Permission to slow down and do absolutely nothing and permission to dance with whatever ideas show up.

Dreaming about the projects I’m devoted to - putting my pen on the page and capturing what’s emerging when I feel inspired - makes me feel more alive. Attempting to switch that off is unnatural. Why would I do that to myself?

And as for Glitter and Biscuits: If I feel like sharing something here I can. And if I don’t feel like it, I won’t.

There’s no editor waiting for me to submit an 800-word draft. It’s up to me what it looks like. It’s up to me whether I publish anything at all.

You are not here waiting for me to deliver a service. You are here to witness and support me as I stumble on this path. To learn along with me. To reflect on your own journey.

My relationship with stopping, pulling back, resting, restoring, playing, working, channeling the energy where it wants to go, is all part of that.

And… right now… in this moment - at the risk of bringing this piece to an abrupt ending - what I need is to feel organised and ready to enjoy our trip. The packing will not do itself after all :)

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I am noticing [yet again] how much I treasure this space. This place where I can express what feels true, and know that is enough.

Thank you for your company.

Until next time :)

With love,

Claire

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