“The cure for anything is salt water—
sweat, tears or the sea.”
— Dinsen Isak
I just got back from vacation. Two peaceful weeks in Grand Cayman. Two weeks of beautiful sandy beaches, 80-degree water so clear you could see 100 feet down as if you were ankle deep. Two weeks of light breezes that kept the humidity and heat at bay. And two weeks of squishing my feet in the soft, warm sand.
However, it took me a few days to unwind and really enjoy it because I was struggling with being on vacation while I’m unemployed. It’s felt wrong.
It turns out I needed that time away. I needed to hit the reset button on “the real world” and let it all go. I needed a clean break from my old job and all the baggage and stress and anger that went along with it. I had also finished the first half of my 300-hour yoga teacher training so I needed a break from all the work that went into that.
Honestly, the timing couldn’t have been better.
Perspective is easier to gain when you’re able step away from a place or situation (in my case I needed a continent and another ocean to come between me and my crap). Having time to rest my body and mind only served to enhance that. I slept like a baby—I slept harder and longer than I have in months. Maybe years. I was in bed (and fast asleep) almost every night by 9:00 p.m. and I woke up at about 5:30 every morning. I didn’t crawl out of bed until about 6:00 when my desire for caffeine over took my desire to stay snuggled in bed.
After a quick shower, I wandered down to the beach where I secured my spot for the day and spent about 10 or 15 minutes meditating, something I rarely make time for at home. When I’m miserable or upset I allow myself to really feel miserable, to be bitchy, to be cranky. I know it’s good to allow those feelings to happen so I can move on, but for a long time—for years really—I let those feeling take over my life. I reveled in them. I wrapped them around me like a warm, fuzzy blanket. And worse, I shut down. But on vacation, I allowed myself to acknowledge my feelings every morning and then I let them go.
I realized I’m tired of being angry and cranky and bitter. I’m only hurting myself. What’s that expression? “Hanging on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die”? That was me.
It was cathartic to let it all go.
It’s a weird thing to have so many people tell me that I seem so happy now. Because clearly I wore my misery like a second skin.
So here I am—a clean slate. Ready to move forward. Open to new challenges. Open to new opportunities.
I start the second part of my 300-hour training in a week and a half and I’m incredibly excited about the teachers and the workshops. I’m actively looking for teaching gigs and I’m pursuing some very cool new career opportunities outside of yoga.
It turns out, sometimes the worst thing you think can happen can end up being the best thing for you.