Vacations, annihilation and the void
Who are we when we're doing nothing?
Welcome new subscribers! Have you got your copy of my new young adult novel, FAIR GAME, yet? Or the paperback of my book about gender, identity and sports, THROW LIKE A GIRL, CHEER LIKE A BOY? Maybe you need both books for consolation after the USWNT got knocked out of the World Cup. Get your copies here and read to the end for a list of upcoming book-related events and a special offer on THROW LIKE A GIRL, CHEER LIKE A BOY.
Did you miss me? I took a little break from the newsletter while I was on vacation with friends on Tybee Island, off the coast of Savannah. I needed the rest from my life, which is what the best vacations are. A chance to slip outside the normal routine and in doing so, to let go of a certain version of yourself. I mean, who are we without our constant need to do, do, do and go, go, go? Vacations, assuming we don’t just keep on with the doing and the going, give us a chance to explore that question.
It's part of what’s amazing about vacations and also part of what’s terrifying. Assuming you can achieve some stillness on your holiday, you’re faced with the frightening question, who am I in this stillness? Who am I when I’m doing mostly nothing? Who am I, sitting on the beach staring out at the water? Vacation as a freefall into the void.
For a long time, I avoided that freefall with the anchor of routine. When my partner and I go to the beach, our days quickly fall into a pattern. Breakfast. Morning walk on the beach. Reading on the beach. Lunch. Afternoon in the room. Cocktails on the balcony for the sunset. Repeat with some variation. It’s soothing and there’s still not a lot of doing involved in the routine. We don’t have a vacation to-do list. Part of what I love about our regular beach spot, Sanibel Island, is that because I’ve been going there for almost thirty years, I feel no compulsion to “do things.” I can truly just be.
On Sanibel, I can mostly escape the pressing vacations should’s. You know what I’m talking about? Our lives are filled with should’s and you’d think our vacations would be free of them, but they’re not. I’m at the beach, I should go to the beach. The house has a pool with it, I should use the pool. No, I should use the vacation as a reset and walk more. I should walk every day. I should go out to that restaurant. I definitely should not, as my partner and I spent one night of our vacation, lay on the couch in the lovely rental house with the baseball game on, reading.
Because the leadup to this vacation had been so chaotic with book promotion and the opinion piece I wrote and other assorted interruptions to the calm that should be summer, I really wanted to focus on the doing nothing part of vacation. After all, what is a beach or a swimming pool or any gorgeous kind of view except an excuse to do nothing? These are some of the few settings where the should points us toward rest. At the beach, you should do nothing. I know there are lots of people on the beach doing things—body surfing, swimming, tossing a football or a frisbee. But it’s also perfectly okay to just sit in a chair and do NOTHING.
On this vacation, I wanted to expand that nothing. I wanted it to fill up as much as space as possible with it. I especially wanted screenless nothing time. I feel like I’ve spent the whole summer sitting in front of my computer or staring at my phone. I needed a break from that. I needed to try to recover the world where instead of picking up my phone, I just stared into the void. I wanted a nothing that was a complete annihilation of my entire self. I was very tired of my self, as one gets sometimes.
When we finally got home yesterday, I got right into unpacking. Not manically, but still, I went straight from driving six hours to a long set of tasks to put my life back in order. As I was sorting through the dirty clothes, a thunderstorm blew in. The wind was whipping out the window. The rain was drumming against the roof.
I put down the laundry and laid down on the bed, where I could watch the storm through the window. My very neglected cat settled in beside me. I didn’t pick up my phone. I didn’t think about all the things I have to do in the next three weeks to get ready for the semester. I sat and watched the rain.
I don’t know exactly who I am when I’m doing nothing. I think I used to know once. I think the spaces of nothing forged me in ways I can no longer remember. I feel another transformation coming, waiting in the stillness. I feel some version of myself beginning to slip away. Sometimes, stepping into the void is exactly what you need to do. Sometimes annihilation isn’t such a bad thing.
Tomorrow the paperback version of THROW LIKE A GIRL, CHEER LIKE A GIRL is out in the world (I know, there’s a lot going on…hence my need for a vacation). Below is a special discount for subscribers available from the Rowman and Littlefield website.
Also, get ready for all the events coming up related to FAIR GAME and THROW LIKE A GIRL, CHEER LIKE A BOY. Just added this week—I’ll be at the Louisville Book Festival in November. So excited!
Tuesday, August 15, 5:30 - 6:15, Madison Public Library. Girls vs. Boys: Exploring Gender and Athletic Performance. Follow-up reception and book signing at Red Roaster.
Wednesday, August 16, 7:30-9:00, Tomorrow Bookstore. Indianapolis. Free event, but you need to reserve a spot ahead of time.
Monday, August 21, 7:00, Joseph-Beth Booksellers-Rookwood. Cincinnati.
Saturday, September 16, Village Lights Bookstore (more details to come).
Saturday, October 21, Kentucky Book Festival, Joseph-Beth Booksellers-Lexington.
Friday November 10th and Saturday November 11th, Louisville Book Festival, Kentucky International Convention Center.
Finally, if you’ve got your copy of FAIR GAME and you read it and liked it, consider leaving a review—at Amazon or Barnes and Noble or Goodreads. Or post a pic on social media (tag me so I can see it). Or ask your local library to order a copy.
Great reminder! And I love the piece on CNN.
Like how you have words for my reality so often.