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Michelle DeRusha

Every Day Faith. Faith Every Day.

June 13, 2012 By Michelle

The Importance of Doing Nothing on Vacation


We drive 12 hours across land that’s flat and beige as far as the eye can see. Antelope graze on sage behind miles of listing wooden fence. The wild west’s Great Wall unfurls under low-hanging clouds. Heat bounces off scorching asphalt as I roll the big blue suitcase across the motel parking lot. Hand across my brow, I squint at shimmering foothills in the distance.

The next morning the minivan climbs, chugging between cliffs that loom like rugged skyscrapers, plunging into lush valleys, trees just now budding, grass the fresh green of early spring. I lean my forehead against the cool window, dizzy and breathless but unable to stop looking at the glittering stream that wends through emerald far below.

The first couple of days in the Grand Tetons are a whirlwind as we clamber over glacial boulders and crumbling scree, frigid mist from roaring falls settling like a web on our hair. We pose and snap and scramble through charred aspen and pine. Young fir, needles soft, push through decaying wood.



After dinner we sit on a gravel beach still warm from the afternoon sun. The lake is as smooth as ice, and the boys beg to skip rocks and make boats and maybe dig a castle in the sand for Bowser, their favorite Mario character.
But it’s late. The sun has slipped behind snow-strewn granite. Just a glimmer of rose paints the highest peaks. “There’s not time,” we tell the kids. “We need to rest up for another big day tomorrow.”
We tuck the boys into fleece, and later, as bats squeal hidden behind the  cabin’s log rafters, I lay awake (terrified, if you must know), and think, “We need more quiet.” And I don’t just mean during the night.

It’s easy to make that mistake on vacation, isn’t it? You want to see it all, squeeze in every possible activity, hike every trail, admire every vista.  And you end up exhausted, frazzled, the scenery and memories a blur, smudged in racing from place to place.

We spend the next afternoon perched on the shore of Jackson Lake. Rowan fashions a driftwood boat, complete with twig-and-leaf sail (we marvel when we find it the next day on the far side of the harbor, still intact).

Noah methodically hauls stone after stone to create what he calls Splash Rock Island three feet from the beach. I kick off my sandals, turn my face toward the sun and read Henri Nouwen while Brad excavates an old coin from the dirt.

One evening during a power outage (we had three during our stay in the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone!), Brad and I sip merlot and snack on crackers and hummus outside our cabin while Noah and Rowan construct a hotel for carpenter ants out of pine needles, stones and sticks. 

The next day the three boys bend low over the marsh under the bridge to discover a colony of miniscule lake creatures costumed in moss and reeds. Rowan holds one in his palm, gleefully explaining how he’d spotted the cleverly camouflaged bugs. The three spend an hour on that bottom step while I stroll the bridge, cold wind whipping as I point my camera straight into the sun.
We may not have hiked every trail or glimpsed every grizzly bear, yet I’d say these do-nothing hours spent in quiet creativity were among the best in our ten days. Leave it to my kids, once again, to help me figure out the value of doing nothing at all…even on vacation. 

So tell me…what’s your favorite do-nothing vacation “activity?”

** And might I invite you to come back Friday for a new special summer link-up here? You might have noticed my “Graceful Summer” series that I started two weeks ago… Well my friend Diana suggested it might make a fun community link-up, and I agree. Each week we’ll share how we are enjoying the slower, quieter moments of summer. See you there?

With Laura…

 

And Jennifer…

And Emily…

Click here to get Graceful in your email in-box. Click here to “like” my Facebook Writer page. Thank you!

Graceful Summer: A Day of Small Things
Summer Snapshot: Picking Lettuce

Filed Under: Grand Tetons, hit the road, quiet, small moments, summer vacation, Yellowstone

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For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a Triple Type A, “make it happen” (my dad’s favorite mantra) striver and achiever (I’m a 3 on the Enneagram, which tells you everything you need to know), but these days my striving looks more like sitting in silence on a park bench, my dog at my feet, as I slowly learn to let go of the false selves that have formed my identity for decades and lean toward uncovering who God created me to be.

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