Meanderings on a Mythical Land
Summer is in full swing
Forgive the slightly GCSE English title here, but I'm a sucker for a bit of alliteration. I've been toying around with various ideas for this week's post, but being fresh off the plane from a week in (or on) Crete, it seemed amiss not to share a few things I've been pondering on the trip - not least the complexity of Greek Myths, as re-told by Charlotte Higgins, many of which are set in, or make reference to, the island of Crete. Hence how we've landed at this title.
Early Starts
I started drafting this post at 6:30am on the last day of the trip, having woken up an hour before to watch the sunrise from the beach. It would have been so easy to roll over and go back to sleep when the alarm went off at such an ungodly hour (especially when on holiday) but at that moment of contemplation, I knew that I'd get up at that time if I had to for work, or other obligations, so why not this? How many opportunities will I have to see the sun rise, on a relatively secluded beach? The answer is not many.
The early rise was unsurprisingly 100% worth it, extending the enjoyment of the trip. And so a question I will open to you today is what do you prioritise getting up early for, or, if you're a night owl, staying up late for? And are there more worldly delights, moments of solitude, or opportunities for creativity that you could enhance with a little more intentionality to carve out the time?
Although beach sunrises won't become a regular part of my daily routine, I am considering some more early rises in an attempt to meditate. Bear with me - a week away on an island hasn't turned me into a master of Zen; there have been times my mind has still been racing through a seemingly never-ending to-do list while I'm trying to quietly sunbathe. But alongside mythical tales, I've been reading Wherever You Go, There You Are, by Jon Kabat-Zinn, which has made me think slightly differently about meditation, and consider that it might be more accessible than I've previously thought.
I've had a semi-regular yoga practice for around two decades (literally - I still have the mat I got when I was 10 years old and a school teacher put on her yogi hat for after-school sessions), but meditation has always felt really separate for me. I struggle to sit quietly. My mind is never clear. To be honest the whole thing seems entirely unproductive, which does not sit well with the aforementioned to-do list. But in this book - one from my bookcase back catalogue, received as a random gift a year or so ago - Kabat-Zinn explores meditation through a lens of stress-reduction expertise, and frames it as a sense of acceptance for what is, and letting go of what we can't change, rather than something that requires stereotypically sitting cross-legged for hours on end at a silent retreat. While a regular “practice” is encouraged, this can be done both within a quiet five minutes each morning, before the world wakes up, but also just as we go about the ups and downs of our daily lives. Crucially, it's not an addition for the to-do list, but more of a mindset shift, or perhaps being more intentional about the mindset with which we work, play, live. The idea of giving ourselves a few dedicated moments of quiet first thing is that it'll set us up well for the day, being better able to return to a sense of calm when work emails, crying babies or getting caught in the rain without an umbrella test our patience; we should accept those things as they are, and move on.
I'm not convinced it's going to totally eliminate my stresses and worries, but I'm willing to give it a go.
Switching to Holiday Mode
Speaking of work emails, I found I needed to make a concerted effort this past week to disengage from work and switch off from all the things I left behind when the ‘out of office’ message went on, and all that will be awaiting me when it goes back off on Monday morning. It's felt odd in some respects to be taking a holiday less than three months into a new role - though it was booked long before I’d applied for let alone got the job. I almost felt I didn't 'deserve' a holiday yet - though that's not to say I didn't feel totally ready for one.
While I had no intention of checking emails or Teams, or doing any 'work work' while away, I did go with a bit of an underlying to-do list. Things I thought I should use the time off to think about. A backlog of articles to read. Posts for this Substack to brainstorm and draft. But then a few days in, between getting through the equally stimulating books - thinking about how I might embed this new meditation practice and deciphering the interwoven tales and tragedies of Greek gods - plus, you know, swimming, soaking up the rays, and exploring the island, I felt like I wasn't doing enough. This invisible, issued by no-one set of tasks were playing on my mind to such an extent that was almost felt laughable. Don't people go on holiday to not think like this? To lean into a different routine, a different way of being, of thinking? Isn't that why people come back from a holiday feeling refreshed and energised, having taken time out to re-charge? And so, albeit slightly belatedly, I made a conscious effort to let my mind, and not just my physical body, be 'on holiday'. To not have to feel productive in any way, shape or form, beyond feeling I was getting my money's worth in terms of relaxation and enjoyment. And though I know a level of holiday blues will be inevitable (they started kicking in when raindrops welcomed us off the plane back in London), I think I met that goal.
My holiday partner in crime was my mother, who enjoys a hot climate and the prospect of hours on a sun lounger as much as me, if not more (and much more than either of our partners who were both duly left at home!). We managed to find the perfect balance between time alone (when I wanted to wander, or write, and she wanted to read in the shade) and time together (people-watching over an iced coffee, chatting over dinner) and though I think this kind of holiday would be thoroughly enjoyable as a solo trip, having someone along with you on the same wave length feels like an added bonus.
Together we navigated the bustling streets of Rethymno Old Town, explored the beautiful Chania City - discovering a cute travel bookshop, among many architectural wonders - and spent far too much time (but who's counting?!) browsing and buying trinkets in the little shops that provided copious amounts of after dinner entertainment. The traditional post-dinner wander in a warm clime is a far cry (though a welcome one) from my usual tendency to lounge on the sofa with a book, or sometimes a TV show, once the dishes are done at home. We listened to live music, not understanding a word of Greek but clapping along anyway, ducked when plates were thrown, and admired as local women ("of a certain age", as Mam would say) requested their favourite tunes to solo dance to. We toasted to learning from their confidence.
This change in routine, the level of wonder at so many new things (16th century Venetian fortresses and balancing-a-candle-on-one’s-head belly dancers alike), the enjoyment of a classic sun, sea and sightseeing combo - isn't that what a holiday is all about? Why did I ever try to fight it?
Racking Up The Word Count
Another thing I've been dabbling in through the trip, and in the lead up, is
’s #1000wordsofsummer. I won't dive into it here (maybe a post for another time), but just a note of acknowledgement to Jami for this encouragement to write, to jot down our thoughts, to make something of nothing.I haven't produced the first few chapters of a novel, nor outlined a new non-fiction bestseller, but I have written (near enough) 1000 words about something or other through (most days of) the 14 day challenge. This annual ritual is now taken part in by over 30,000 people, though this is the first year I've committed enough to feel officially part of it.
Read this if you're curious to learn more.
On account of my pondering new routines and ways of being, what I want to start, continue on from the holiday, or end having seen the light of a better way, I'll finish where we began, as is often the case with great tales, with a quote from Athena's story in Higgins' Greek Myths:
"But nothing stays the same. There existed also a force, an agent of change."
What will your force be this summer, and what change will it bring?
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PPS…
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