Counting Down…

H&M shirt
Oak + Fort trousers (c/o) (similar)
RayBan sunglasses
Mejuri earrings (similar)
Location: Balsam Bay, Manitoba

I don’t like to admit it, but that’s exactly what I’m doing; counting down. Crossing off days on my calendar, anxiously waiting for them to pass, wishing my life away because an adventure was just around the corner.

It wasn’t like this, before. I always loved and lived for the anticipation of a holiday, but holidays were plentiful in my life, and so were opportunities to travel for work. Every time I disembarked from one plane, I knew when I would be boarding the next one. The idea of counting down to trips was almost laughable – they came up so quickly that there was no time to do the counting. I could easily live in the moment because every moment was exciting in some way.

I won’t repeat, for the hundredth time, what’s changed since then, because it’s a story we all know too well. I’ve embraced a slower life as best I can, and learned about myself in the process. But the thing about living more slowly is that there is more time to reflect, which means looking back and looking forward. And when there’s excitement on the horizon, looking forward is a temptation that’s nearly impossible to resist.

And so, in spite of my teenaged promise to myself that I would never wish away moments of my life that I couldn’t get back, I find myself counting down. We’re officially thirteen days away from our departure to Paris today. When I look back on these photos, which we took on our last holiday, or at least the closest thing we’ve had to a holiday in the past two years, the temptation is all the more real.

The idea of spending a long weekend with family at the beach truly never appealed to me until this year. (And I say that openly, although much of my family does read these posts, because I’ve never been shy about telling them that same thing.) It’s just not my kind of holiday. But this year, it was a revelation – at least until my allergies kicked in. For three days, I was completely away from my apartment, my work laptop and phone a distant memory. The walls around me were unfamiliar and thus, somehow, exciting, despite just being walls. And if I can feel that way about a holiday that I would never have taken under different circumstances… imagine just how wonderful a Parisian holiday will be!

While I am actively counting down, announcing to Ian every morning, “Fifteen more days! Thirteen more days!” as time passes, I confess that I still have mixed feelings about travelling why the pandemic wages on. I question, often, whether it’s a socially responsible choice, and whether it’s worth the personal risk. But then I find myself sitting in my office, yet again, staring out the same window, typing furiously with a million things on my to-do list but somehow still waiting for time to pass and I realise, none of those questions is the right one. What I need to ask myself is what might happen if I don’t take this risk. The answer to that question is long and complicated, but it can be distilled into two simple words: nothing good.

I’m counting down because I need Paris. And although it means temporarily giving up my personal policy on countdowns, in this case, I believe I’m justified.

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