Post-vacation hues

I suspect that there is a very real disorder called, “Post-vacation blues,” and if there isn’t, we could invent it. One of us should commit a crime, and when the case goes to trial, we could use post-vacation blues syndrome as our defense strategy. Our attorney could say, “Your Honor, my client fully admits to the charges against him (or her – who will volunteer?) but he simply cannot be held responsible for his actions. You see, he was suffering from post-vacation blues syndrome and the defense plans to question several experts on this widely experienced disorder.” One by one, the rest of us could get on the stand and tell stories of mountains of laundry, empty refrigerators, sand in the house, lonely pets starving for attention, piles of mail, overgrown lawns, and the return to regular routines – and how the sudden onset of these stressors, after days of relaxation and fun, make one behave in strange and unpredictable ways. I bet the verdict would be, “NOT guilty.” Surely the members of the jury have gone on vacation once or twice.

I also have post-vacation yellows. In many ways, I’m glad to be home. I like my life and so returning to it is not a bummer. In between the loads of laundry, I went to the grocery store and ran into two friends, visited with my parents who I was happy to see, stopped to see my friend Bob, pet the dog’s tummy, started to return phone calls and emails (some of which were from friends that I adore), and read all the back to school information that came in the mail while we were gone.

Isn’t it funny how you can feel two completely different ways about the same event or situation or circumstance? The hues of life, although sometimes bold and easily recognized, often overlap to create new and muted colors of ambivalence in between. In my case, it’s post-vacation green (blue and yellow) which is actually funny because I have not one dollar to my name after last week.

I love that I do not always have to decide or define everything. Often it is really okay to just acknowledge the intersecting hues and live bathed in them – in the midst of the tension and lack of clarity that they produce. Sure, there are things I know for certain, and those I aim to be and do, but there are other areas of life that are, well, greenish. Sometimes, I am tempted to invent colors so that I can feel decided. It’s crazy, but I want to declare, “RED!” even when it’s more of a brick or sienna or burnt ember. Red is so primary, so definite, so guaranteed. It makes me feel safe when I confine my life within the 8 crayon box, you know? That big ol’ box of 64 is a little frightening.

So, I’m home and I’m green (ish) and I’m questioning what I think I know. It’s good to be back.