A lot to unpack
Whenever I return from a trip—especially a long one and especially to the beach—my life is a mess for at least a few days.
There’s so much to unpack! The clothes smell like sea water and are full of sand. They need to be shaken out. Then washed, folded, and put away. But that’s the easy part.
Unpacking the emotions is so much harder! But even that—if done in stages—doesn’t have to be a chore.
Whether our trips are long or short, to the beach or to the mountains, solo or with others, here are a few ways we might allow ourselves the space and time to process what we’ve learned. And to suffer a little less.
Wallow and wait. The better the trip, the worse the re-entry. And this one has been hard! But, instead of running around to block out the sadness—or beating myself up for again not seeing the sucker-punch coming—I’m hunkering down. Inevitably the tides do turn. I will feel better again. And I bet you do too.
Keep the away brain on. Research shows that a change of scenery takes the brain off autopilot. When we’re in an unfamiliar place, we have to problem-solve even the smallest things—like finding my way back to my Air BnB from the gym without the GPS! Those moments of insight flood our brains with dopamine. So back at home, why not pretend we’re just visiting?
The away heart is smart. When we’re traveling (or pretending to travel), our hearts and our eyes are more open. We’re less likely to follow the rigid social rules we’ve set for ourselves—about where to go, who to befriend, or who to fall for. A vacation habit or friendship or romance might be short-lived. If so, so what? Even so, it could shake us out of complacency. But best case scenario? That new thing—that new person—could surprise us and stick.
Enough is enough. Even my camper van—even your most massive suitcase—holds only a fraction of our stuff. I shop less, and have less, than most people I know, but when I get home, I’m overwhelmed by the redundancy and excess in my closets and drawers. And the kitchen cupboards, oh my! Right after a trip is the best time to be ruthless about what we really need. This is reason enough to go away!
The first time I went out alone for an evening, I was in Boston traveling for work. Cheers was still on the air, so I visited the namesake bar. Livingston Taylor—one of my favorite singer-songwriters at the time—was giving a concert on the green across the street. Sitting solo in a folding chair next to strangers was awkward, but I powered through.
Going places alone is easier now. In fact, I often prefer it.
The harder thing is believing there’s a comfy hole in the sand somewhere. Warm sea water pools, and drains, and fills again.
Love and freedom co-exist.
For me and a person I’m with.
