What I Really Learned on Vacation

and why I’m not leaving it behind

Vacations are funny things.

We circle them on our calendar’s months in advance. We talk about needing them. Planning them. Counting down to them. And then they finally arrive. And just like that, they’re gone.

But this summer’s vacation was different.

Not because of where we went, or what we did. But because of what it reminded me.

My husband and I finally took a trip we’d been planning for a long time. Just the two of us. And while we spend time together regularly, this was different. It wasn’t time squeezed between errands, work calls, or routines. It was uninterrupted, unrushed, and unfiltered. And in that space, we reconnected in a deeper, more intentional way.

That kind of connection doesn’t just happen.

It’s created.

And sometimes, it takes stepping away from your “normal” to realize just how much you need that space. For yourself and for the people who matter most.

Here’s what I really learned on vacation:

Time off is not a luxury. It’s necessary.

We talk a lot about self-care like it’s something to be earned or scheduled in small bursts. But there is something powerful that happens when you remove yourself from the noise long enough to just be. To breathe differently. To listen to your own thoughts. To feel your shoulders, drop.

That’s not indulgence. That’s restoration.

And it’s one of the best things we can do for ourselves. And for those we lead, serve, and love.

Our relationships need presence, not just proximity.

For many of us, we’re surrounded by the people we love all the time. But how often do we get undistracted time with them? Vacation reminded me that presence is a gift. One that requires intention. One that deepens connection. And one that can get crowded out by routine if we’re not careful.

And for those people that are not near us or entrenched in our day to day lives, but just as treasured, they take additional planning and work but are owed the same intention and connection.

Taking time to nurture those relationships isn’t selfish. It’s sacred.

Reflection is the real souvenir.

Yes, the memories are wonderful. But the meaning comes when you pause to ask:

How did that time away impact me?

What did I notice? What did I feel? What changed?

For me, I noticed how good it felt to laugh more. To slow down. To not overthink.

I remembered what it felt like to lead with curiosity instead of urgency.

I remembered the version of me that isn’t always chasing the next task but simply enjoying the moment. For example, the me that takes the time to really look through the camera lens and capture the moment so I can remember it vividly.

I don’t want to leave that version of me behind just because I’ve returned to work.

Bring the vacation mindset back with you.

Not the cocktails or the time zones (although… tempting), but the perspective.

As I re-engaged with my work at SRJ Collaborative, work I love and care deeply about, I came back clearer, calmer, and somehow more me. Not because everything changed, but because I did. The pause gave me the space to come back better.

What I do isn’t what I would consider easy. It’s dynamic, complex, and deeply important. But that’s exactly why taking time off isn’t a disruption. No, not a disruption, but a focus. An investment in showing up stronger, wiser, and more grounded.

Don’t lose the fun.

Maybe the biggest lesson of all?

Life is better with some lightness in it.

Vacation reminded me that laughter, joy, playfulness, and fun don’t need to be confined to a few weeks a year. They belong in our everyday lives. In our work. In our relationships. In how we lead. In how we show up.

So, I’m bringing the ease, the connection, the curiosity and yes, the fun, into this next season.

A Question for You:

What did you really learn on vacation? Heading into this next season, is there something from the lighter, longer days of summer that you want to carry forward into your everyday life?

Whether it was time away or longer days spent relaxing in your happy place, the real magic isn’t in the escape, it’s in what you bring back with you that matters most.