I took part of last week off, it was meant to be the whole week, but there was too much pending work that I needed to squeeze in to focus on rest. Serendipitously, three additional days were added to my weekend, spilling into a really short week this week. Did I rest? Not really. You see, I learned that a real break is leaving the city for me. For various reasons, I wasn’t in a position to do so.
I do intend to take a good week off in a couple of days, but in the meantime, as I continue to work and avoid hitting the dangerous point of burnout, I took time to remind myself what being on a real break is all about.
I took myself to the glorious Indian Ocean. I could hear the lapping waves, and a scurrying crab would catch my eye on the wet sand from time to time. Thoughts interrupted by a young man eking out a living with some wares asking me to buy some. When he realises I am not interested, he tells me a few anecdotes of coastal culture as I politely pull away and walk along the beach.
The lapping waves wash over my feet as I look into the ocean bearing various hues of blue and teal dotted with dark green and brownish seaweed tickling my feet every time it ebbs and flows.
Silence washes over me, my lungs open, sucking in the salty air, my eyes closed, and I smile with every breath. Life is peace; life is bliss. Isn’t this what life was always meant to be about?
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