A Love of Work

I’m out of town for a week’s work at a spa resort.  All my delicious meals are prepared, the room is cleaned daily, the schedule offers many options for physical and spiritual nourishment, but I don’t have to attend any of them.  My own, already prepared, talks aren’t until the end of this week’s stay, and while I’ve brought lots of reading materials, my laptop, and have internet access, I don’t HAVE to do any of it. I’ve finished just the novel I was halfway through when I arrived, have read the NY Times every morning, and have fulfilled the two hours required daily for my job.

This leaves me with vast swatches of unscheduled time, something I claim I want dearly in order to meditate, contemplate, and create. And yet, I’m startled at my discomfort at being so at “loose ends,” even as I do not participate in most of the yoga, swimming, exercise classes, demonstration kitchen, creative arts, comedic talks, or hikes.  Most of this time, I have not been overly happy or even content. A wise woman I talked with Friday morning suggested I ask my higher power/inner being what I might be or do for small chunks of time, as looking at a week of possibilities has felt overwhelming.  When I reign in my horizon, the next right thing usually appears—go to lunch, wash your hair, journal.

Still, I yearn for meaningful work and feel slightly off-center when I’m just focused on self-care. There’s a balance I’ve long sought between service and self-care, and this week feels as though I’ve tipped into self-indulgence.  Maybe because in my regular life I take good care of myself and don’t overwork as a daily practice I haven’t needed such a deep dive into relaxation. Or maybe because I’m always busy and focused, this kind of spacious time and ease is just so unfamiliar as to feel uncomfortable.

I know I could be appreciative for the luxurious conditions and unique opportunity. I know I could be open to explore, connect, and learn more about this particular place and the people here. I know that this too shall pass. And I’ve learned that, even as I can’t be here wrong, my soul longs for a grittier experience and my heart needs community to thrive.