A Happily Boring Life
In my family, I am the designated booking agent, itinerary planner, transportation guide, and customer service representative for all significant outings and vacations. Like most eldest daughters, I spend most of our vacations anxious about whether things will go according to plan and unable to enjoy myself unless everyone else is happy. In February, I went on a week-long vacation with some friends who graciously relieved me of all responsibility besides e-transferring my portion of the booking fees and showing up at the airport. The phrase, “I’ll plan everything” is so healing that it nearly brings me to tears!
We spent the first half of the trip at my friend’s family home in the mountains, plucking lemongrass from the garden for our evening tea and chatting on the veranda in the afternoon sun. Some of the best meals I have eaten this year were scarfed down on that trip. I can almost taste the lobster doused in garlic herb butter. I slept, lounged, wandered and ate to my heart’s content. It was glorious.
The second half of our Jamaican adventure was spent at an all-inclusive resort in Montego Bay on the Hip Strip. We were still immersed in the unhurried pace of the island but MoBay was louder and…more intense. We bought souvenirs from shop owners whose charm and enthusiasm distracted us from their exorbitant prices. We had our fill of rum punch on a catamaran to Dunns River Falls where I nearly lost my life trying to climb the falls (the rum punch had nothing to do with my near-death experience). To end our vacation with a bang we went to a club and danced to Afrobeats, R&B and dancehall until an ungodly hour. It was thrilling and completely exhausting.
The stark contrast between both halves of my trip led to an important realization: I’m happy with a simple and boring life. As fun as it was hopping from one adventure to another, the most memorable moments were the quiet and unassuming ones: waking up from a nap with the sun streaming through the windows and staying up late sharing old stories and arguing over useless opinions. Without the usual pressure to do and see everything, I was afforded a quality of rest that overflowed into the days and months after the trip. The serene island backdrop was breathtaking and a needed break from the noise of Toronto, but precious moments on vacation are suprisingly similar to the moments I cherish most in my everyday life.
In my early twenties, I was obsessed with crafting a life full of glimmering accomplishments and accolades. I wanted the type of success that would garner attention and envy, especially because I was jealous of people whose lives seemed full of extreme highs and intense experiences. I wanted to travel so I could brag about the places I’d been to, not because I was interested in exploring new cultures and ways of life. I wanted to pursue further education to have as many letters after my name as possible, not because I had a passion for learning. It makes me cringe thinking about it!
At some point, my priorities shifted. I’m not sure if it is a result of burnout, watching too many millennial rants on Instagram or the Holy Spirit’s gracious correction of my foolishness but, in any case, I have grown disillusioned with the hustle and grind of a so-called “exceptional” life. This is not my declaration of support for the “soft life”. I’m too type-A and overly suspicious for that. The soft life trend falls into the same trap of being an aesthetic re-brand of privilege, just like the overcommercialization of self-care and so many other wellness trends. Instead, I’ve given up chasing highs. I’m not living for the attention of other people. I want a quiet, peaceful, unaesthetic life. A life that nobody would be particularly interested in watching but would be blessed to have.
This new life goal is challenging. It requires me to fight for gratitude and joy in the mundane. It demands a consistent rhythm of reflection and contemplation; to interrogate my motivations and, sometimes, sacrifice what is productive or profitable for what is good and meaningful. That type of life seems well worth the cost to me.
