I don’t know about you, but sometimes work feels never ending. And on just the odd occasion, I feel a little stabby too. One of the good things about my job is that I work alone a lot of the time. One of the bad things is that I work alone a lot of the time. It’s a vicious cycle. The introvert in me loves the solitude, the extrovert misses the company.
I spend hours on end in a windowless office staring at a computer screen coming up with new ways to tell the same story over and over with the end of the day always far too far away. It can make me a little despondent, tired and stir crazy. My hour long lunch break seems especially long on days that I’m working alone. I’d much rather have a shorter break and head home earlier so I can relax.
Not so long ago it occurred to me that I am looking at my break all wrong. I have an hour for lunch. That is inordinately long for a lunch break, especially for me. I’m used to not getting a break at all in my old job. I have a whole hour where there are no demands on my time. No children to look after. No boss to please. No husband to pay attention to. Nothing but my time in the middle of the day. So I started to do things that allowed me to enjoy my break time, instead of using it to mill around eating the minties we put out for clients and wishing I could go home sooner.
If you look around you’ll find there are actually quite a few things to do to recharge your soul in an hour. It’s easy to look around and see only signs of a town decaying or turning its back on what was once beautiful. But I’ve learned to look past the mundane to the things that lift me up.
I’ve practiced yoga atop a waterfall. I’ve picnicked at the waterfront watching sailboats drift by. I’ve walked to take photos of the flowers in bloom. I’ve sat and listened to the breeze in the trees. And I’ve read under the blossoms of a wisteria vine.
All in my lunch break.
The town I work in sounds spectacular when you look at the things I’ve done to recharge during work. It’s not. It is just an average town that has outgrown its infrastructure and let its less fortunate citizens fall through the cracks. It takes practice to see beauty behind the graffiti and I can’t encourage you enough to start. Today.