I'm Taking Two Weeks Off: Here's Why

Reflections on Doing Nothing in Case You Want to Do More Nothing, Too

Dec 16, 2024

Hi friends! First, YES, since you asked, I did sign up for a local cornhole tournament as I begin training for the National Senior Games — which I wrote about last week. Now, on to this week’s story:

At Stanford, I used to play every minute of every basketball game. That made a certain sense. I was the leading scorer and rebounder. It’s pretty hard to shoot or grab rebounds while sitting on the bench.

But in the second half of games, when my team sprinted down court to play defense, I’d often arrive last. I remember my coach, Dotty McCrea, gently mocking me afterwards as we watched highlights and lowlights of each game. The video would show nine people moving into position at one end of the court while the tallest player loped alone up the middle. “And finally, here comes Maggie,” Dotty would narrate. (Maggie was my nickname then.) “She’s just heading out for a little jog.”

I didn’t mind the teasing. But how to solve the problem? I wasn’t lazy or out of shape. Just tired.

Then Dotty made a discovery. Rather than leaving me in for forty minutes, she granted me strategic breaks. I’d sit on the bench catching my breath while a teammate subbed in for me, welcoming her own chance to shine. Once I returned to the game, I performed better. Turns out I just needed periodic rest – as we all do.

I’ll Be Taking the Next Two Weeks Off

Rest is on my mind because I plan to take the next two weeks off. I’ve written, illustrated, and published one Stronger Women essay each week since March 31. You’re reading my fortieth story. Weekly seems to be a good rhythm for me, and, as far as I can tell, for you.

I just need a break. These winter holidays provide a good time for that break.

Note to paid subscribers: Your subscription will be extended by two weeks.

Perhaps this vacation announcement was not necessary. But I didn’t want you to miss me. Some of you eagerly read Stronger Women every Monday morning. Thanks for telling me that. It’s nice to know you’re curious about what’s on my mind.

Sabbath

I have a favorite book called Sabbath: Restoring the Sacred Rhythm of Rest. I keep returning to it to re-learn about rest. Any period of time we reserve for ourselves (daily, weekly, annually) can refresh us, says the author, Wayne Mueller, who defines Sabbath not only in the religious sense but also as “anything that preserves a visceral experience of life-giving nourishment and rest.”

Such as one day per week entirely offline, which my friends Susan and Sabrina do. Or daily poetry reading, which my friend Raoul does. Daily walks in the woods, as my friend Beth does. When we remove ourselves from our ordinary strivings, Mueller says, “we become available to the insights and blessings of deep mindfulness that arise only in stillness and time.”

My Annual Hysterectomy

In 2003, I had a hysterectomy. Recovery took forever, but after a while, I was not miserable, just sore and tired. Seems like I spent a whole month relaxing in a recliner, reading. One time, my friend Willie came over to visit. “I’m actually enjoying this time,” I told her. “I’ve decided I should have a hysterectomy every summer.”

“That would be called a vacation,” she corrected me.

Trying to Do Nothing

It can be challenging to know how and when to take time off. Sitting on the bench can be uncomfortable when others are out there in the main arena, playing the game you love.

I’m not very good at what the Chinese call wu wei, translated as "not doing anything," "not forcing," and "creating nothingness." I’m more like the two-year-old who tearfully refuses to go to bed even when her big head wobbles from fatigue.

I used to play sports until my my joints screamed in pain — that pain less important to me than the bliss of the game. Nowadays I keep sitting at my desk, writing or drawing, past the time when my back or knees quietly coax me to stand and stretch. Like sports, creative activities are so engaging, even thrilling that I can easily ignore my own body’s needs.

I’m not alone. Being awake, involved — in the game — can seem so much more appealing than retreating, reflecting, sitting, breathing. But if we don’t figure this out, “if we do not allow for a rhythm of rest in our overly busy lives, illness becomes our Sabbath,” cautions Mueller.

The Promise of Rest: You Will Know What to Do

Once we surrender to it, rest offers a delicious feeling of restoration. As a bonus, once we finish our “doing nothing” phase and start our next phase of doing something, we’ll have more clarity about what exactly we need to do.

Here’s the way this works for me: Once I’m rested, “available to the insights and blessings of deep mindfulness,” my mind refills, almost to overflowing, with ideas I’m eager to craft into stories. This superabundance of ideas, and the crafting of those stories, feels deeply satisfying to me.

Sometimes, when all goes well, readers find the stories satisfying, too.

See you in two weeks, on January 6, 2025.

Need a holiday gift? Check out A Wild Swim: Why Do We Take Foolish Risks? It’s a graphic story about the folly of denying inevitable age-related physical declines — as illustrated by my perilous plunge into the icy North Atlantic a few years ago, where I risked joining the Titanic on the sea floor while trying to prove to myself that I’m still youthful and brave. In print and e-book on amazon.