Several years ago, I was chatting with a colleague. She told me she takes an entire month off work—every summer—so she can have an extended vacation and take advantage of the amazing weather.
I was like, “Wait, excuse me, did I hear you correctly? An entire month?”
She repeated herself. Yes. Correct. A month off.
This was during the frazzled, workaholic period of my career—back when taking an entire weekend off (let alone an entire month) sounded kinda unrealistic. A crazy idea. Impossible.
And yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about this woman and what she’d told me.
A month off. Hot damn. I wanted to experience that—or at least, something pretty close. I craved it.
That same year, I promised myself, “I’m going to take three weeks off at the end of December.” I wasn’t sure how I’d swing it. I just promised myself, “I’ll mark down the time on my calendar, I’ll plan ahead, and I will figure things out.”
And I did.
And it wasn’t as difficult as I’d feared.
And I’ve given myself a three-week break every single December since then.
During my annual break, I don’t meet with clients. I don’t lead retreats. I don’t have conference calls with my team. I don’t have anything work-related on my calendar. I might write—if I feel like it. I might record a podcast episode or do a Facebook Live video—if I want to. But nothing is required. No appointments. No deadlines. It’s my precious time to rest, reflect, recharge, hang with my family, and read in front of the cozy fireplace.
Three weeks off. What initially seemed like a “completely crazy idea” has become my normal annual routine. And it can be yours, too.
Or maybe your “crazy idea” isn’t a three-week vacation.
Maybe your “crazy idea” is having your kids ride the bus to school instead of taking two hours out of your day to drive there and back.
Maybe it’s hiring a local college student to cook dinner for your family three times a week so you don’t have to.
Maybe it’s getting groceries delivered to your door instead of battling traffic to get to the store.
Maybe it’s taking Fridays off so you can paint, study Spanish, or work on writing your book. Crazy, preposterous, absolute madness! Or… is it?
Maybe your crazy idea is a lot less crazy than you think.