We had a recent lakeside vacation.
The lake house we visit is a special place. It holds for us vivid memories and a rustic beauty. But even more than that, it contains a certain magic that inevitably entrances us.
The lake house melts stress and quiets the soul. It stills the restless heart. People who never nap nap at the lake house. It has that kind of effect. Our family loves it.
As we’ve returned home, I’ve found the magic dissipating, the stress and hurry returning. But I am convinced this change is not simply the absence of the lake. I think it’s my fault. And that’s the insight.
Part of the lake house’s magic is the absence of distractions. The lake house has no cable, no real internet, and the stillness leads to calm and early bedtimes. But in the short time we’ve been home, I’ve caught myself doing things I couldn’t or wouldn’t do at the lake house like checking email, fiddling online, pointlessly staying up later.
It occurred to me that none of this is necessary. A great deal of what I love about the lake house transfers to normal life. I can bring some of the lake house effect back with me. No one requires me to fritter away the day. No one beckons me online, not really. Television can wait. Early bedtimes are productive.
If I can’t be at the lake house, why not be the lake house?
I think I will try to be the lake house this fall.