I’m on vacation. Here’s what my vacation looked like this morning:
Here’s what it looked like a few hours later:
I’m on a crowded beach in Rehoboth, DE. It’s 100 degrees. It’s “Where’s Waldo?” out here. Family dysfunction is on full display
It’s probably the last place you’d expect to find me (your yoga teacher) on vacation. (Okay, maybe Vegas would be the last place, but this is close, no?)
I should be at an ashram or retreat center somewhere, right?
But here’s the thing: I don’t want to do on vacation what I do all the time. And the fact is, I live a pretty stress-free, serene, low-stim life, which is why this “Where’s Waldo?” vacation works for me. If I lived in a crowded, rat-racy, traffic-jammy place and had a job where I was underappreciated and underpaid, then I’d get my ass to the ashram for a week.
But this time next week I will be lighting candles and chanting Namaste and leading Sun Salutations. Which is why it’s kinda cool to have a sunburnt kid kick sand in my face, and the woman next to me talk non-stop on her cell phone while I read Small is the New Big by Seth Godin on my Kindle.