masking & unveiling

Losing track of time is one of vacation’s perfect things. I didn’t even bring a watch to the beach, because the only times I care about here are Lunch Time, Nap Time, and About Time, as in “kids, I think it’s About Time you left mommy alone and went to bed.” Plus the hours pass so slowly here that watching a clock would convince me the earth had stopped rotating, and I just don’t need that kind of panic.

The other perfect thing about vacation is that it takes the fetters off my brain and lets it run free like a half-naked toddler in the sprinkler. Just this afternoon, I had a crazy nap-dream where I invented a Combination Big Bird Baby Swing and Basketball Goal, which I sold to Fisher-Price for millions, and then attended a Smashing Pumpkins concert where I was the only person in the entire arena. I think the first part was my mind’s creative way of trying to figure out how to pay for the kids’ education this fall. The last part just means that I’m old and no one cares about what I think is cool anymore. But tomorrow I will slap some teenagers and make peace with that.

It also seems like I come up with my best ideas about work when I’m not actually doing it. My body left the office on Sunday afternoon, but since then my mind has wandered off on its own to

a) solve a web design problem that’s been plaguing me for a month, and

b) spark an idea that’s going to revolutionize church small groups on every continent. Except maybe Antarctica. I’m pretty sure their small groups are already thriving, since people are forced to huddle together to share fish and body heat.

It's all proof that I can’t get away from my job very well. The work I do is what I was called to do; it bleeds out my pores on to everything I hear and see and think. But it’s nice to get away from the urgent and to let God blow some fresh air into the closets of my creative mind and spirit. It reminds me that my legs aren’t the only parts of me that haven’t seen daylight in awhile.