Why it’s important to get away

We spend 8 hours a day at work, at least an hour getting ready for work and an hour in traffic to/from work. That’s 11 hours every weekday spent doing work related things.

With 24 hours in a day and 8 of those hours we’re sleep, that gives us about 5 hours a day to do something for ourselves.

I’m no expert in math, which is why I write, but I see how easy it is to get burnt out and lost. We spend more time focused on work than time with ourselves.

For me, work is pretty necessary so in order to get more time in a day for myself I sacrifice a few hours of sleep and wake up early.

But even with an early morning routine, burn out still happens. Spending 11 hours ON every day, every week, every month, becomes redundant and tiresome. No matter how much you love what you do.

There’s bliss in turning off and shutting down.

I’m talking more than for the weekend or a mental health day (which are also extremely important). Allowing yourself to shut down for a few days and do nothing but whatever you enjoy, is the key to life.

I didn’t realize how important it was to get away until I woke up one day angry at the world, took a mental health day and was still angry at life. I used a few vacation days earlier this year and stayed at home, which had benefits you can read about HERE, but there’s something freeing about getting away from home.

I had to bite the bullet and save up to take a vacation. I read somewhere that you shouldn’t go on vacation until you pay off all your debt, well forget that. I had to go!!

I went to San Diego! It was my first time seeing the Pacific ocean. I watched the sunset while sitting on a bolder at Windansea Beach. I closed my eyes and inhaled the salty air, my hair was puffed up by humidity and blew every which way across my face.

Then I swallowed a bug and it was time to go.

I ate at a bar overlooking Mission Beach. Had a couple mules and some fried cod. Sipped on my drink and watched surfers catch waves in the cold water.

I sat in the grass in the middle of Balboa Park, read a few chapters from a book I’ve been reading. Wrote in my journal near the park’s pond while a guitarist played gypsy jazz.

Met new friends over sushi at a hidden gem of a restaurant in Normal Heights.

Had coffee with the sunrise on the balcony.

It’s moments like all of these that breathe life into me. Weekdays can be so mundane that you forget there’s more to life than responding to emails and completing tasks.

When you get angry with the world, embrace it. See it for it’s true nature. Good people, good food and experiences that take your breath away.

Now that I’m back, I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time. I was able to let go of everything I was wrecking my brain with and everything that needed my attention.

The first thing that gets me out of this good mood will be the last thing I worry about.

Before I swallowed the bug…

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