So, I was able to get out to the shop with me crutches, and J.B. helped me move one of the tools to a lower table so that I could sit at a stool for part of the process of making spindolyns. When I sat down, I had an overwhelming sense of..."ohh, I do really like doing this" I do really enjoy working with wood, it was good to be back in my shop (crummy as it is)
It got me to thinking about that feeling you get of happiness and contentment when you reunite with the familiar after a seperation, even if you had been ragging on it quite a bit before you left.
And isn't that what a vacation is all about? we think of it as the activity itself, the trip, the tour, the leisure, but when it is all said and done a good part of the lasting effect is not the memories, but the coming home and appreciating where we left off, we see the familiar with a fresh and newly affectionate look.
If we come back to a job or place and we only feel revulsion, then it is probably a wake up call that it is time to move on.
My accident provided me with an unexpected vacation in the dictionary sense; "time away from work devoted to rest or pleasure" Now, my planned vacation (kayaking near Chattanooga) won't happen this year because of the resultant medical bills, but I am amazed that the time of rest (ok, not so much pleasure) had the same after effect as a real vacation. My woodworking and crafting seems rosier and I feel more motivated all the way around after my unplanned period of rest.
So I looked up the origin of the word vacation, and I especially like the reference to "empty"
Word Origin & History
vacation
late 14c., "freedom or release" (from some activity or occupation), from O.Fr. vacation, from L. vacationem (nom. vacatio ) "leisure, a being free from duty," from vacare "be empty, free, or at leisure" (see vain). Meaning "formal suspension of activity" (in ref. to schools, courts, etc.) is recorded from c.1456. As the U.S. equivalent of what in Britain is called a "holiday," it is attested from 1878.
Online Etymology Dictionary, © 2010 Douglas Harper
We get empty, so we can feel that satisfying feeling of filling up again.
testing a prototype spindolyn