Play Hooky for a Day

"Exhaustion is not a status symbol."

— BRENÉ BROWN

I had just wrapped up an intense two-day consulting job in Southern California. I was sitting in my rental car, trying to drum up the energy to drive to the airport and catch a plane back to D.C.

My phone rang. It was my son, Andrew, who was helping me with my business. He must have sensed something in my voice because he asked, "Whazzup, Mom?"

"Andrew, I'm so exhausted, I don't even know how I'm going to get on the plane tonight. I've got to take a red-eye and then turn around in a couple days and fly back to the West Coast."

He paused, then decided to jump in. "Mom, there's something about you I don't understand. You've created a life where you can do anything you want and you're not taking advantage of it."

Wow. Out of the mouths of twenty-somethings.

He didn't stop there, "Why don't you stay there the next few days? I'll book you a hotel and you can handle your business from there."

Andrew was right. No one was forcing me to fly back to the East Coast. I was my own boss. I could do what I wanted. A half hour later, I was checking into the Laguna Beach Hotel. A half hour later, I was falling asleep to the sounds of the ocean outside my open window. Bliss.

The next day I followed another piece of Andrew's advice. He had said, "Mom, you've been working so hard, you deserve a break. Why don't you play hooky for a day? I've got this."

What a concept. As a single mom and small business owner, I'd been going nonstop for decades. The thought of waking up when I wanted and not having back-to-back appointments all day made me feel like a little kid getting away with something.

Sleeping in the next morning was sumptuous. I dawdled over a cup of coffee and then headed into town to explore. As I strolled Main Street, I was drawn as if by a magnet to a bookstore. I gravitated to the writers' section and started thumbing through old favorites by Anne Lamott and Julia Cameron. As I did a voice welled up in me, "I am a writer. That's who I am."

The voice was as real as if someone were speaking to me. Actually, someone was speaking to me. The author I'd buried in busyness. The author who spent most of her time consulting, who'd had no time to work on a new book for two years.

Please understand, I was grateful for my career. Katharine Graham of The Washington Post said, "To do what you love and feel that it matters, how could anything be more fun?" Well, the only thing that could be more fun is to do work you love with people you enjoy and respect and get paid for it. That's what I got to do, so I was not looking a gift source (intentional) in the mouth.

Still, what this day of hooky was bringing up was that I had set aside a passion for my profession. I spent most of my time helping other people get their work out in the world instead of getting my own work out in the world. And it was taking a toll on my soul.

Standing in that bookstore, inspired by the muse, I promised myself I'd get up early every morning and write, just like bestselling author John Grisham did before he hit it big with his blockbusters. I headed back to my hotel, turned the desk so it faced the ocean, and spent the rest of that day gazing out at the water and drafting my next book.

Gloria Steinem said, "Writing is the only thing that when I do it, I don't feel I should be doing something else." That's how writing feels to me too. When I'm getting thoughts out of my head and onto paper (or my laptop), I feel like I'm doing what I was born to do. The world slips away and I am in my element. What does that for you?

What Would You Do If You Could Play Hooky?

"Tomorrow is another day. But so was yesterday."

— RENE RICARD

What is it that, when you're doing it, you don't want to be doing anything else? How long has it been since you've had time to do that?

If you could play hooky for a day — and there would be no repercussions and your responsibilities would be taken care of — what would you do?

A thirty-something named Carl said, "If I could play hooky for a day, I'd spend it in a garden digging my hands into the soil and planting things. I grew up on a farm. My parents put me in charge of our family garden when I was ten. I felt so grown up that they entrusted me with that. I spent hours watering, weeding, planting, and picking. I loved it so much I wasn't even aware of the passage of time. I left home for college and then stayed here in the city to work. I didn't realize until right now how much gardening meant to me and how much I miss it."

I told him, "When you have something that makes you feel that good, it's like having the answers to the test. There's no mystery about what would make you happier. All you need to do is find a garden and start spending some time in it."

He said, "Sam, I live in an apartment building downtown. That's not going to happen."

"Get creative. I bet there's a community garden somewhere near you. Or maybe even a botanical garden that welcomes volunteers. Could you check that out?"

Guess what? Carl now spends a couple mornings a month in the potting shed and...