Guilt Free Playtime is not like fat free potato chips. With one, you are making a very healthy choice. With the other, you are just pretending to make a healthy choice.

Last week I took a vacation, by myself, which I have never done before. Before you get all excited about some exotic destination, I need to tell you that it was a “mental vacation”.  The destination was still pretty amazing but it wouldn’t have mattered where I was. The point is, I left my left brain (my day job brain) at home. I took only my right/creative brain with me. That’s not altogether true since I still had to drive to the destination and function, but my left brain was certainly in idle mode for most of the week.

I went on a quilting retreat. Yes, I said quilting. Now if you are picturing one of those carefully cut and hand stitched bed throws your grandmother made or a baby blanket passed on from generation to generation, think again. Quilting has become an art form. It is far more flowing and flexible than what most of us picture in our minds eye.

my work in progress

The retreat was held at Asilomar on the Monterey Peninsula which certainly qualifies as an extraordinary destination. But this week was not about the destination, it was about the journey.

The journey began months in advance searching for just the right inspiration. Then came the process of collecting various pieces of fabric based on their color, texture, pattern, shading, etc. This is a part I particularly enjoy, since their is no pressure to produce yet! I had been gathering materials and supplies for months. The hardest part of packing was deciding what to leave behind. Fortunately I was driving to the retreat and only had my car, rather than airline restrictions, to contend with. All the time leading up to the retreat I kept feeling pangs of guilt for being so self-indulgent; devoting the time and money to such a frivolous activity when the entire world is in such a state of dispair. It took a couple of days for me to let go of the guilt and give into the growth awaiting me.

I arrived at Asilomar and checked into a rather monastic room – small enough that the two twin beds were arranged foot to foot rather than side by side; not at all what I am accustomed to when I travel. My left brain kept arguing for a room with better light and a non-polyester bedspread that would not keep sliding off onto the floor. My right brain didn’t care where it slept as long as the bed was comfortable so it could be left to dream through the night.  

Not having anyone other than myself to attend to for a week is a novel experience. No husband, no kids, no parents, no business, and no excuses. I was there to create; nothing more, nothing less. No pressure, right? My left brain kept trying to take charge and insist on defining an outcome before the class even began. My right brain laughed and smiled back.

I am no stranger to creativity – I have always had an active outlet for it in my life through various hobbies and even my work. However, it’s easy to become intimated when you look at the masterpiece quilts that were on display in the main hall, many that had won countless awards and accolades. However, our instructors set the stage for a very “safe” non-judgmental creative environment. They made everyone feel good about their progress or lack thereof.

Geni always reminds me that a blog post shouldn’t be too long – which I seem to disregard with regularity. I could go on for pages about all the little lessons and metaphors my left brain now has to chomp on for years to come.  But I won’t, at least not in this blog post.

Without going into a stitch-by-stitch replay of the week, I can tell you that it was one of those transformative experiences that forever influences the way you approach life. The long, story short is that by the time the week was over, I was recharged. I found that by feeding my right brain so abundantly, much of the nourishment spilled over to my left brain. What is the first lesson I will hang onto here? . . . Taking time to “play” should not be viewed as wasteful or self-indulgent. It is an essential part of fueling my “work." Much like when Stephen Covey talks about “our need to sharpen the saw”.

I also learned that I should take a mental vacation when I am at my busiest, not wait until “slow season.” When I am at my busiest is when my mental reserves are running low. Doesn’t it make sense to stop and refuel the tank when it is getting low rather than wait until it runs empty? Have you ever run out of gas by the side of the road? I have, just once. Once was enough. I had avoided the gas station on my way to an important meeting for fear of being late. Running out of gas gave me plenty of time to reflect on the flaw in my rationale. So now I always plan ahead and work off the top half of my gas tank, not the bottom.

Bottom line, don’t wait until you are running out of gas. Plan ahead for your mental refueling stops well in advance of busy season. Plan ahead so you can work off the top half of your reserves, rather than the bottom. That means taking a complete break from your day-to-day. That does not mean taking a few days off and still connecting to the office by e-mail. It means completely unplugging from one part of your brain to engage the other. I recommend engaging in an activity that you have not yet mastered. Something that will require your complete concentration otherwise your brain will be able to multi-task itself right back into left brain mode.

We tend to focus on the importance of physical relaxation but give little attention to the need for mental relaxation. And yet for most of us, it is our brain, not our body, that takes the biggest beating day in and day out.

Find a mentally challenging activity that will give your day-to-day work brain a rest. Underwater photography? Fly fishing? Woodworking? Rock climbing? A service project? Poetry? It doesn’t matter what you choose, just make sure it is an activity that will consume your mental focus for a few days. That consumption will result in an abundance of energy to channel back into your day-to-day activities.

I am already signed up for another retreat next year. Can't wait!