When you're burnt out, one beach day isn't enough

Interestingly, when you're constantly running on high cortisol levels for so long, your nervous system isn't capable of immediate reset, even under "perfect conditions" (e.g., sunny beach day, no screens, nourishing food...)

I came to learn this during my current vacation in Hawaii. The way my job is structured allows for above average flexibility, which can be both good and bad. Since I prefer to work less total hours per day, that translates into working almost every single day, including weekends, holidays, and even PTO days. Although I occasionally take a Sunday off work, I fill my time during those days with other pressing errands and projects.

For the first time this year, on September 7th at around 11pm, I finally closed my laptop and said "see you in a week" to work and anything else that felt mandatory. I also set a 10 minute daily limit on my phone for any social media apps (so far, so good).

On my first day off, I headed out to the nearest beach in Kapa'a to journal, got my toes all sandy, and then stopped by a coffee truck to grab breakfast and read—a novel I had only made it through a few dozen pages this year. Under the covered benches, it was a peaceful time while it rained gently around me and the chickens roamed with their chicks searching for crumbs.

Even though I had gotten my 8 hours of sleep, I felt tired, so I took a restorative nap and woke up around lunch time. Headed to Kilauea for a poke bowl from the fish market and ended up buying my new favorite dress made with non-toxic dyes, something I had journaled about earlier in the day. All in all, it was a great day, but within me I could still feel the cortisol running through my veins.

I wondered why though, since I had set up such a beautiful day, on paper, for myself. I wanted to trust the process and had faith that maybe tomorrow would be a better day.

Luckily, I was right! I headed out to the same beach the following day to walk, barefoot of course, while the sun rose and the waves made music that no one has ever heard before. It was cloudy but perfect.

That day's coffee stop ended up being one of my favorites I've ever experienced. The owners genuinely embodied the "aloha" spirit and crafted the most perfect breakfast. Here, I journaled and planned my day, which included a quick stop at Walmart for souvenirs (iykyk), my first coffee farm tour, and exploring the small, colorful town of Hanapepe, where the village in the movie Lilo & Stitch is based on.

That very day is when I started to make small changes that allowed me to really feel like nothing is urgent, nothing is waiting to be done now. For example, I stopped by a bookstore, where the lady led me to a corner bookshelf that had hundreds, if not thousands, of postcards that had been given away or found inside books. Usually I would have taken a minute, maybe two, to quickly browse and see if anything stood out to me. Instead, I decided to sit down for at least an hour, and basket by basket, I browsed every postcard. I ended up finding 32, for one reason or another, that I purchased to take home with me (only $1 each!)

By sunset, I could feel my cortisol levels had dropped, and so I felt relieved, not only that I was no longer so stressed, but that I could let go and enjoy the rest of this vacation that I had intentionally made time and space for.

As I'm writing this on day three, I feel a little tired (no caffeine this morning), but happy to report I have very little cortisol left in me—at least none that I can feel. Life is never perfect, but now I understand why people say it's important to rest and recharge. This experience has made me realize, for better or for worse, that I need to prioritize all of my days off, and perhaps take a week off every few months. For now, I will enjoy the remaining days in Hawaii. Aloha!