What Really Happened on my Relaxing Writing Vacation
A card with a an image of a lion and the word “strength” propped up against a vase of flowers on a desk. There are images of birds on cards in the background, and a cup of water.
This is one of those newsletters. By the time it’s found its way to your inbox I’ll be thick into a vulnerability hangover. But honesty seems to give me power, and the most useful things I know start with embarrassment. So here we go.
Last month I went on a trip to Holland. The first week was to get to know my partner’s Dutch family — big group dinners, long bike rides, pancakes, children, camaraderie. And then everyone went home, and I hauled up in a little village alone to write.
I had everything I could want — a little desk, a cobblestone street, the ocean a short train ride away. I’d done my research and had a notebook full of things to see; art gallery of Dutch masters, old churches and city gates. I imagined writing and adventuring, every day a little excursion.
You know what happened?
I watched an entire season of Modern Family on Netflix.
What the hell? I was so confused. Every day, multiple times, I got lulled by the call of leggings, blankets and a safe familiar world where nothing can break. I watched 27 episodes in a week.
On my second-last day, I woke up feeling lost. I decided to pull a tarot card for guidance. I got the “Strength” card. A fearless lion. Power and mastery. This is it, I thought. This is the day when I scratch things off my list, and go see those paintings. I filled my backpack with snacks and strode out.
The wind along the canal was fierce and I kept having to stop and pull my scarf over my face. I walked faster. “This is good. This feels right.”
Then the anxiety started to bloom, sudden and everywhere. The ground felt uneven. Even the sky was tilting. I found a tree to lean against and pulled in a couple long breaths.
I looked out at the canal and down at my hands. It was a beautiful day. People were walking by. I breathed deep, and asked myself, calling every fiber of my wisdom: What do I need right now?
The answer was quick.
I need to go home, get under the covers, and watch Modern Family.
And that’s what I did.
As a writing coach, I often feel I’m supposed to have certain things figured out. Occasionally I almost do. I did write a lot of words in Holland. I filled a whole journal. It felt great. I tried to write you a newsletter about that but it was so boring. This part — the anxiety, the surrender, the humility — this is what really changed things.
In that moment by the canal I learned the simplest lesson. It’s okay to want what I want.
I wanted a break.
I wanted to be small and invisible and not accountable to anything.
I wanted to be okay with that.
I also wanted to be a little bit dumb for a while, and to trust the dumb.
Maybe I wasn’t procrastinating. Maybe I was actually feeding something that badly wanted to be fed. Maybe that’s what I the lion-hearted strength for.
I can tell you now, several weeks later, that no one cared at all whether I saw any Dutch Masterpieces. No one was even going to ask.
In it with you,
