Now, though, I don't know. Even six days of relative idleness was a little twitchy. Part of that was commingling lives with the couple we traveled with - Art's brother and his wife. Part of it was TV yes, wi-fi no. But in the last couple of days my thoughts turned from the nine magazines I took along to read (yes, I read them all, with three torn-out pages for further exploration) and even from the delightful experience of going barefoot on cool tile floors and on warm sand. The thoughts, instead, were on my weekend to-do list at home - apply for Art's Medicare Advantage and our reimbursable medical expenses, prepare our budget for retirement, and attend the pastry class gifted to us.
Also, I noted the weather on Maui is iffy this time of year. On the road to Hana, the rain poured out of the sky, creating impressive waterfalls but few opportunities to hike to them, and little landslides along the road. Lying on the deck with my face turned sunward was a windy challenge. My recollections of Hawaii don't include weather obstacles. So maybe the perfect tropical vacation is something to relegate to the past, as we move forward into our next choices. Or maybe perfect is a state of mind and weather is just an incidental and I should just get over it!
On the other hand, as I come to the end of my worklife, I'm creating a new network of relationships. Multiple intentional conversations with my sister-in-law Joan were an unexpected treat.
For my writers group Tuesday night, I'm working on a short piece on boredom. I can see, as I write and rewrite, that boredom carries more than a tinge of fear for me. I'm a busy woman, and I want to take a look at how much of that busyness is avoidance of silence and empty time. Maybe something from my past, an old behavior I can let go of.
I'm glad to be back home, even to our gray Saturday sky.