I'm back! I'm back.
Yep, I was on vacation, and if the ends of your vacations are anything like the ends of mine, I'm left wanting to start the vacation all over again.
But who would say otherwise?
(No reader of this newsletter.)
We visited Crete—my wife needed to be in Athens for work, we wanted to see family in Germany, and Crete happened to sit right in the middle of all of it.
That's where the planning started. And nothing about the trip was an accident.
Because it wasn't just something we stumbled into—we thought about what we needed—rest, our version of adventure, time with people we care about, good food and great drinks. Quiet to read a couple of books. So that's what we did.
I didn't plan the whole trip in one sitting. I thought about what I needed over a few weeks. Looked at maps over lunch. Researched hotels after work. Asked around about where to eat, what was worth seeing, what to skip. Small decisions accumulated until I had something we were genuinely looking forward to.
I put real care into planning time away. I think about what I need, what would restore me, who I want to be with. I protect the time. I bet you do too.
And yet most of us invest more thought into a vacation than into four decades of work.
That's not laziness or indifference. It's not intuitive that our experience of work is something we can shape. Nobody told us. Does anyone know? The work arrives. The calendar fills. We move through it, and we plan vacations to recover from it. That's the Vacation Paradox.
So the next time the vacation blues hit, that might be the exact right moment to ask: what would it look like to bring even a little of that same shaping to work?
The same instincts you use to plan a vacation—thinking about what you need, making small moves, letting things accumulate into something worth showing up for—that instinct works at work too.