Several years ago, I embarked on a 40 day journey during the Lenten season to try to live life through the eyes of a tourist in my own backyard. Being raised Catholic and having attended solely parochial schools, I was brought up with the concept of Lent. For 40 days, I would give up an excessive pleasure, prove my internal strength of the ability to withhold something desirable, and by Easter I was rewarded. I tried to stick to the stringent time limited vows I made. As I progressed to Catholic high school, I realized I didn’t have to just give something up. I could improve how I was living. Instead of avoiding candy bars for 40 days or later eliminating red meat, I transformed my pact to such things as choosing to be vulgar free.
As I grew older and this concept of making a change in my life for a specified number of days remained enticing, even if it was outside the borders of the Lenten season. I could conquer something time limited. Anything is possible with an expiration date looming over it. I had been known to simplify my life by doing the Master Cleanse for 10 days annually, a 30 day bikram challenge, and undoubtedly the annual new years resolution. All of these were common short paths to a more enriched self.
Since the Lenten season approached during this burned out period, I was eager to start a new transformation of my life. Although I was no longer a practicing Catholic, the preparation and Lenten framework were ingrained in my head, and served as the perfect parallel process. For 40 days I would live life as a tourist.
Travelling was generally my solution to needing a break from my overwhelming life, but I didn’t have forty days off. I planned to be a tourist, but the caveat to this is I was not going anywhere. This would be an internal trip.
This concept of viewing life as a tourist made perfect sense to me. When I have travelled, I have had spiritual moments and felt connected to the world as whole. I felt the universe protected me on my expeditions, even more if I travelled alone. As Tennessee Williams stated, “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers,” who have served as my guides and at times saviors. I have had serendipitious conversations with strangers on trains, in coffee shops, or in a crowded hostel room. Sometimes, I am overwhelmed with awe by the history a city holds in it’s cobblestone streets. Or I felt pure peace in a quiet seemingly abandoned church.
It’s ironic that I was now prescribing myself homework. As a therapist, I was generally the one who guided others in ways to live a fuller enriched life. Seeking help from therapists wasn’t helping me this time around, nor was engaging in a multitude of alternative healings. That year I had tried acupuncture, bikram yoga, massages, crystals, self reiki, feng shui, traditional therapy, physical therapy, master cleanse, and wearing ionic bracelets. Nothing helped. I needed an extended self-induced assignment. I turned the therapist chair around and prescribed the remedy: a staycation.
I did this several years ago, and this year decided to replicate it. If you want, choose to go on your own staycation with me for the next 40 days.
It Only Takes A Smile 