It angers me how a week away can change everything. It angers me not because of the adventure, or of the laughs, or of the weight lifted from my shoulders. It angers me because a holiday is a holiday and as soon as I get back home all of that real world comes crashing back, as I try desperately to cling on to that freedom of mind, that new perspective, that truth that I saw through crystal clear eyes.
For those few days, all that mattered was experience. Nature, weather and adventure. Sea, art, shells, good food and good beer. Birds and seals, walks and runs, sunshine and rainstorms, night and day. There was no money talk, no work stress, no inevitable pressure to feel or conform or do the things that I think I should be doing.
I am angry because I can’t hold on. I can’t keep that mindset, even less than 24 hours after returning. I want to scream and shout through the frustration of it all, that life shouldn’t be a return to drudgery, that life should be a holiday every day, that I shouldn’t have to dread going to work, that I shouldn’t have to feel down about how I look or how I feel or what I haven’t achieved that day.
But for now I write, I let the words and anger pour out and bring me back to this normality, this everyday life, away from the magic and removal of those days of adventure. Away from the monotony and pressure of being home, I was a different person. That pressure, removed from my head, no worries, no what ifs, no I wants, no I shoulds. No failure, only immersion.
There, everything is achievable, everything is clear. Back here and immediately, that insight is lost. It’s back to the inevitable, back to the normal, back to staying the same. I should be able to keep that momentum, channel my energy, act on those ideas and build my life the way I want. But back to the grindstone and it all seems to start to fade.
I want to keep that clarity. But I just don’t know how.