Financial writer Kara McGuire hits “Pay Dirt” (her column name) with this article, “Put a Squeeze on your Financial Stress.”  We hear same-old suggestions a lot, but here Paymar seeks fresh ideas from a three wise folk whose area of expertise usually is not money.  They are:

• Barbara Murphy, a Buddhist priest
• Rebecca Thomley, a clinical psychologist
• Michelle Burns, a life coach

There’s so much more to life than money—and so much more to these tips than tactical money-management stuff.  If financial worries have got you down, take a gander…  

Gretchen Rubin is generating quite the buzz with her “Happiness Project.”  And in this HuffPost blogpost, she asserts that reliving happy memories from the past is one small secret that happy people share.  I so agree.  And remind you that taking a BreakAway is a sure way to ensure that your past is packed with joyful experiences worth revisiting.

Here are a few Rubin blog quotes + a comment…

Philosophers and scientists agree: if there is one element that is the key to happiness, it’s having strong relationships with other people.” 

• True that, and going somewhere new allows you to meet all kinds of new people—and cut straight to honest chat; how cool to have friends from all over the world. 

Remembering happy times in the past is a great way to boost happiness in the present.” 

• Life can become a busy grind and the days can blur; just stepping away from the grindstone makes those times stand out. 

I keep a one-sentence journal.” 

• Indeed, one essential Sabbatical Suggestion is to log your BreakAway.  You pay better attention, and have something to spark the memory.  Why not live that way every day?  

Sure, a BreakAway pushes you into the Here and Now in a way that the daily routine can’t match.  But when it’s over—and you’ve had to go home again—you remember that day surfing the wave, baking the bread, or hiking the mountain forever.  Those things change you, and the rich reminiscences only appreciate over time.  And that’s a happy thought indeed.

It’s my sense that families have been taking “staycations” for years.  But these days, with folks trying to cut back on spending, the idea is generating all kinds of buzz and steam.  In this clever memoir from the NY Times, a family tries—and succeeds–at going nowhere.  Yet they do find some bumps in the road less traveled.  To wit: 

• One child wonders—presciently—if the folks will just work all the time, like they do when home.  Guess what?  They kind of do. 
• Mom (the author) admits she works every single day, sometimes for hours.  Yet she seeks balance toward the end by allocating some time blocks as “work” and others “play.” 
• They did, indeed, save money—even though they enjoyed some splurges and agreed not to worry about it. 
• This time, they avoided coming home from the vacation feeling like they need a vacation.  Who doesn’t know that sensation? 

As this story suggests, staycations can be a great BreakAway from work—and from the normal routine.  But you need to plan special outings you normally don’t do, avoid plugging into work too much, and have realistic expectations. 

My advice to this family?  Next year, go somewhere dreamy.  And afterward, have a family meeting to see if one wins by a mile, or if there’s room for both in the future. 

This website, after all, is dedicated to free time of ALL kinds and places.  

Sometimes it takes getting thrown out of the office to notice there is a life outside.” 

For the final Travelog entry, may I present my perfect children.  I took hundreds of pictures of them, but published only a few on this website.  In this technological era of tell-all exhibitionism and voyeurism, some of us still have a place for privacy.  Yet I proudly show off this shot, and share these parting thoughts…

Dear Ones,

What a gift it was to lift you out of your classrooms and let you learn, instead, the lessons of experience.  To sneak you away from your world of scheduled play dates, sports teams, digitalia, and potty-mouthed pop music.  To let you live among new riddims, vistas, and cultures and, best of all, see you jump with joy at the chance.  Literally.  Over and over. 

 Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us.”  Oscar Wilde

Now you will both grow up fast, then grow old gradually.  I know I’ve got MY ideas and dreams for you, like:  Let’s run away again!  Yet I honestly don’t know if we’ll be blessed with another family Sabbatical.  It’s a small miracle we managed this one, and that it went so well.  But oh my, what memories we now “carry about with us.” 

So grow ahead, already.  Grow ahead and get all independent, become skeptical of your parents, and perhaps eventually blame us for everything from zits to arthritis.  No matter what happens, we had this time together.  Just us.  I see now that, on a long list of Missions, this one mattered most. 

This photo, taken on our last full day, confirms that AllBoy has moved on; he has become Young Man. Heck, he’s strong enough to throw me in the pool, hurt me with his tackle, and outride me on the surf. He can run off alone and carry his own.  His raconteur instincts can charm a stranger or a classroom. 

CurlyGirl has grown up too, in so many ways; make way for Little Lady!  The baby teeth have shrunk and the lifetime chompers are emerging—ready to bite into bigger things.  Her speed and coordination are modeling her athletic brother’s.  Playtime drifts from Polly Pockets to Scrabble.  And she now insists on reading to me, rather than vice versa.

Let’s get together and feel alright.”  Bob Marley

In this picture, the two of you together become one shadow—which signifies the connection you deepened, all by yourselves.  (Parents can’t make you do that.)  He’s 11, and she’s 5, so they played up and down or met at 8.  They became best-friend sibs—a secret society with precious privileges that last a lifetime. 

Now, firmly on home soil, they’re suddenly 12 and 6, yet the bond remains robust.  In a world in which people obsess over careers, accomplishments, and self, perhaps the ultimate legacy we can strive for is strong offspring.  No amount of time or energy given to that task—whatever may be the sacrifice—is too much. 

But yes, you can go now. Go to your friend’s house, to a movie, on a date, to play a tournament, to summer camp.  I’ve held you in my arms long enough.  But you’re still welcome there.  Any time. 

With any luck, this BreakAway showed you that—in a way that words can’t.  It also showed you that the world is so much bigger than your backyard, and its horizon is boundless.  So are your possibilities.

But before signing off, may I say “thanks.”  Thanks for agreeing to go; many kids would not.  Thanks for holding my hand during the scary parts.  For romping with me in the sun, sand, and sea.  For reminding me how to laugh and splash and play again. 

Wherever we may go, whatever may become of you, this is how I’ll always see you.

So here:  Take this picture with you.  Let’s keep it as proof of the blessed gift of taking our time—with nary a worry about the future or past—if only now and then. 

I’ll still see this image when you become bigger and smarter than me.  When you leave the house to find your own freedom and fates.  When my heartbeat slows to a stop.  And today, when our dreamy BreakAway has ended and carried us home, where we belong. 

Seven weeks ago, a free, faraway feeling ruled the day.  Back home, not so much. Life has resumed the habit-busy ways that pass for normal these days.  Every family member has gone through permutations of the “be-backs,” from boredom to flu to winter angst.  But spring is winning the war over winter.  And the trip spark still has a faint glow. 

One views life, I think, with a more critical eye after a BreakAway from the routine into the extraordinary.  That’s a good thing, or so says Socrates, who reminds us that:  “The unexamined life is not worth living.”  That may be true, but there are risks—such as wondering,

Is that all there is?

That’s particularly true when “all there is” is less than all there was.

Investments:  way down.

Home equity:  shrunken.

Business:   sluggish.

Public morale:  low.

Moreover, a fun-filled Sabbatical can spoil a guy—whereas the kind of spoilage presently happening in the world economy just stinks.

Sabbaticals Happen, Like it or Not

For better or worse, lots of people—including many I know—are confronting the Involuntary Sabbatical:  Getting fired.  Others are taking paycuts, losing clients, or seeing sales dive.  It’s odd:  Freedom feels less free-ing when it arrives uninvited.  But lest we all get lost in anxiety and gloom, most of us have plenty we could do with that time.

On the upside, many new, improved messages—that can help folks facilitate a real BreakAway someday—are emerging from this downturn:  Live with less; build your savings; nurture the earth; hug family and friends (not just your job); try the bike and ditch the Hummer; time is the new money.

Amen to that.  Money is numbers on paper—which typically gets SPENT on stuff.  Time is…whatever you choose to DO with it.

You Gotta Go Home

Following any chosen, gratifying time of  pleasure, you gotta go home.  After 69 days on fantasy islands, I’ve done the same.  Now it’s up to me to keep the insights relevant, the boredom at bay, and the relaxation vibes alive.

Peeking at the photographs helps, despite the risk of nostalgia.  The images still look fresh—if rather surreal.  (I was there and saw that?)  These five represent some favorite moments—and shall linger vividly in my mind’s eye.

• Awe, Shucks  (pic of hands)

This detail, of “Christ of the Deep” in Grenada, tells many tales:  1)  Blue-sky days bring beauty.  2)  We all need to open up and beg for mercy now and then.  3)  Awe, hope, and reverence are desirable pursuits.  4)  And “Dear God, please tell me what to do?”

• Aquamarine Tranquillity

In meditation and biofeedback, teachers may tell you to visualize some peaceful thing or color:  a mountain (strength), the sky (openness), a pool (calm), the color yellow (I have no idea why—Corona commercials?).  My preference?  Caribbean blue.  It can provide wave after wave of serenity.  And I can stare, and stare, and stare…

(I think it’s why Johnny Depp took that role.)

• Inside the Pod

This image, from a botanical garden on St. Vincent, reminds me of the kind and wise West Indians, and suggests that marvels can hide underneath an exterior.  Just peel off the skin; gently dig in.  St. Vincent itself was like that; the visit was due to travel logistics, not travel gurus.  But once we were there exploring, that isle surprised us with her splendor and allure.

• Self-reflection in Doorway

Why this?  It’s not a great picture.  But it’s me.  And since I take 99.9% of the photos in this family, I’m not in 99.9% of them; this is rare proof that I WAS there!  Moreover, this happened on the last morning, during a solo sunrise walk.  It was a reflective stroll, and the door connotes the changes and mysteries that lie ahead after the return to Reality.

“Being able to disconnect has become the status symbol that high-tech connection formerly was.”

 

“An Internet publicist of good reputation…recently confessed to me that her fondest ambition was to get offline and write a novel…set pen to paper.”

 

“Of course, everyone knows driving while chatting is dangerous.”

 

“I like to do arithmetic in my head so I don’t forget how.”

 

“I worry a bit that those things that are most important to me—spending time with my family, writing my novels, doing my martial arts practice—are slowly under assault by the very gadgets that I bought to make my life easier, smoother, better.”