Now that August is over, we can start thinking back to the summer we’ve just had, and begin idly planning for the summer that will start in around 10 months. What would you like to do then? Where would you like to go? I ask because I would like to offer you a tip, based on something I stumbled upon this year.
Where did I go, I hear you ask? Was it perhaps one of those minor Greek islands that haven’t been entirely invaded by tourists yet? Somewhere on the Baltic coast, which is underrated yet wonderful? A country even further afield, maybe, but one that’s definitely worth the trip? In that order: nah, nope, not in a million years.
This year, I spent the six or so weeks of the summer holidays doing something deeply fulfilling and enjoyable: I stayed home, and I did very little. It wasn’t a happy choice at first, but merely the result of travel engagements occurring on both sides of July and August. I just didn’t have the funds to justify any extra jollies.
Still, I decided to make the most of it, and I had a fantastic time. While all my friends were on sun loungers somewhere, I finally changed the curtains in my bedroom, and I went to the dermatologist to speak to her about that one mole that bothered me, and I set up my accounts for Make Tax Digital so HMRC doesn’t get cross with me, and I filed my tax return early, and I got the extra fancy cleaning from my dental hygienist, and… sorry, I’ll stop here, I worry I’m about to put you to sleep.
What I was trying to explain here is that, over the course of a month and a half, I worked at maybe 75% of my usual capacity, and I used the remaining time I got from those days off by finally sorting all the boring things that had been languishing on my to-do list for ages. It should have been annoying but I found it oddly freeing: because I was choosing to try and blitz through as much as possible in a short amount of time, the agency I gave myself made me feel giddy.
This reasoning extended to more pleasant things. For so long, I’d complained about not going swimming enough, or cycling enough, or never having the time to see all the random exhibitions I wanted to check out. That ended this year: I did it all and it was terrific.
Suggested Reading
The TV documentary that gets ADHD all wrong
Perhaps most importantly, it left me feeling both refreshed and genuinely looking forward to life starting again. Holidays are fun but so often exhausting, and I usually come home from them happy but knackered. This time, I’m full of energy, and ready for the rest of the year. Surely that’s the mark of a summer well spent.
Really, the only problem is that “the rest of the year” doesn’t seem all that rosy. Andy Burnham seemingly had a good August too, but must get ready for quite a spiky wake-up call in September, as the issues in his red box start piling up. Elsewhere, far-right ghouls remain on the march, and civil society is yet to come up with a way to stop them. America will go to war over its mid-terms in November and, next year, France will do the same by, yet again, trying to keep the Rassemblement National out of the Élysée.
There is, in short, relatively little to look forward to in the coming months, though I suppose this only reinforces my point. We live in troublesome times and must try and recuperate as often as we can.
What I found this summer is that no beach resort will make me feel as relaxed as knowing that I won’t have to worry about the world and my bedroom curtains falling apart at the same time. Ideally I would have fixed the former first but well – the latter is better than nothing.
