I’m writing this email to you while on vacation from the newly renamed Gulf of America. Growing up in the South and coming down to the coast regularly for decades, I’d grown pretty used to the name Gulf of Mexico, and I’m not sure I understand why we changed the name. But that’s not what I’m here to write about.
I debated writing an email this week because I’m on vacation with my wife and dog. I wanted to be as present as possible with them and not be distracted by “work.” Writing is not my full-time job, but it is often the place where I synthesize what I’m experiencing in my roles as a coach, mindfulness practitioner, entrepreneur, and sober guy.
So yeah, I was trying to not write this week as a means of being on vacation. But the problem with this idea is that I actually like writing. And I really like writing from such a beautiful place with so little else to do except read and walk and explore the bays, creeks, and tidal bayous with my girls.
Have you ever had that experience where your discipline actually gets in the way of having a little impromptu fun?
I thrive on structure—it keeps me grounded in recovery, meditation, exercise, and creativity. But what happens when structure starts to get in the way of spontaneity? Like when my wife wants to do something fun, and I’m debating whether to stick to my workout schedule?
This kind of inflexible discipline typically serves me well but can also be a hindrance. So how do I know when to take my life off auto-pilot and manually fly this bad boy?
This is where mindfulness comes in. When I’ve consistently meditated, I can step back and ask: What does this moment actually need? Structure or flexibility?
When on vacation or traveling, I still try to go to 12-step meetings—especially if I’m in a different country. I also try to keep up some version of a meditation routine and like to get some workouts in. But I keep all of these to a minimum so that I get to spend lots of time with my girls. This keeps me feeling sane, fit, and healthy, but not so hardcore about my routine that my wife has to work around my schedule.
And yes, even writing fits into this time off for me. I write this from the deck of our little cottage on the Bon Secour river, watching blue and white herons fly up and down the bayou and listening to an area teeming with wildlife.
I’ve read of many writers who like to work on their stories every day of the year, and I admire that. But it’s not me. These days, I want a more holistic approach to life. Paying attention to art and commerce and family and friends and spirituality with some sense of equality. I’ll spend a few weeks this year secluded in a place where I can work on my next novel, and I’ll take a few weeks off to go on meditation retreats, but for the most part, I’ll try to approach most of my life more evenly. So when I’m on vacation, I can be more fluid and dynamic and not so rigid in my routines, making me miss out on what vacation has to offer.
My unsolicited advice is that when on vacation or traveling, don’t drop every routine and habit you’ve worked hard to cultivate. These can be really hard to spin back up when you're back home. Instead, stick to a minimal version of your routines to get what your mind and body need while enjoying time away from normal life.
For you, this might be doing some yoga, calling your sponsor, checking in with your aging parents, or drinking a bunch of water. Maybe you even adopt a new healthy routine just for vacation, like a 5-minute stretching routine. As long as it works for you, that’s what matters.
I think my wife would testify that I’m actually more fun when we’re traveling if I make the time to go to a meeting, get a little movement in my body, and sit quietly, even if just for a few minutes a day.
OK, enough newsletterness for now. I’m already jotting down notes for a story brewing in my head about a 70-year-old Bon Secour shrimper who can’t stop drinking and has to resort to violence to save a down-and-out prostitute. Or something like that.