Summer vacation is a staple for one’s own sense of stability. In most cases, one or two days I’m doing work—either by choice or a directive from someone who signs the checks—even though it’s work I try to avoid from usurping vacation days. At the C-level of management, there’s always a part of your vacation that is, indeed, a “working vacation.”
Anyway, I make the effort to still my mind and settle the angst of all that is life. It’s not always related to work as there are things in life that can be much more demanding of time, energy and other resources.
I posted an article on my LinkedIn page, “A Short Guide to Finding Quiet,” and this post is related to that article. However, what I’m sharing here is far more personal. There are places that are quiet and then there are really quiet places, the kind you savor and want to bottle for another day.
Living in New England means you’re never far from the ocean. I like that. The sea air has therapeutic properties, but when coupled with with the kind of quiet that only Nature can produce, well, then the properties take on added qualities, qualities that make you breathe deeper, think slower if not kinder and move about in less harried fashion.
The sounds of a breeze cutting across tall sea grass, the distant cry of a gull, the “wooshing” sound of water rolling onto the beach, the rthymic slapping of a wake against the side of a boat. All are folded into “sea air.”
If your summer vacation isn’t near the ocean, then I’m sure there are quiet places that are unique to wherever you’re headed. You can make them your own too.
When I explore the innumerable streets that span New York City, I give credit to serendipity for many encounters. When the camera comes up, or when my pen touches a page in my journal, often the actions are fueled by some gut feeling or a touch to one of my senses.
Case in point: this festival of color had a prequel in music. The rthymic sounds of drums, a bass, a trumpet and the chimes of triangles caught my attention. The music sounded Indian. At any rate, a parade of vibrant hues and colors that were part of a very large wedding suddenly appeared from behind a gate.
Certainly this wouldn’t be New York if we didn’t have any juxtaposition to further entertain us. This mural by “Boxhead” channels Rene Magritte, but its appearance in the first photo makes for an intriguing study in contrasts.