Cultivating a Beautiful Life – Creating a Life You Don’t Need a Vacation From

A dear friend and I were having one of our fireside chats, and she said something that stood out to me. In this season of life, she wanted a life that she didn't need a vacation from. That STRUCK me…as it resurrected within me a deep value that I've held for many years. Vacation is a luxury, not a necessity.

Don’t get me wrong—I admire those who are well-traveled. Vacations are a wonderful experience. This, however, is a thought-provoking piece about cultivating a life that doesn’t demand a vacation, not one that frowns upon them. Cultivating such a life means intentionally creating margin in daily living.

Creating Margin

Margin: Restoring Emotional, Physical, Financial, and Time Reserves to Overloaded Lives, by Richard Swenson, is one of my top five favorite books. As required reading during Seminary, I was floored at the concept of margin, or having a buffer that prevents us from becoming overloaded—physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Margin, as Swenson says, “is the space between our load and our limit.”

Like many, my mind had been shaped for overproduction and performance. While I'm a fan of fulfilling purpose; culture and community, inadvertently taught me that achieving equates to anxiety. This is no one’s fault—it’s simply the American way: rushing to get to school on time, rushing to work, staying up late to finish assignments. We pack as much as possible into each day, and the result is often low-grade anxiety and a constant undercurrent of restless thoughts.

For many, the notion of mental and emotional rest is foreign. Nowadays, rest has become synonymous with binge-watching or doomscrolling. Yet the rest God intended doesn't include being detained by images and endless creative input. While this isn’t necessarily sinful, it's not ideal.

Rest is what my grandparents did: sitting, talking on the porch until we exhausted ourselves. While we watched television, read newspapers and magazines, these activities were done as a group and had an endpoint. At the end of the day, the TV and the newspaper were old news. Our attention wasn’t detained all day. We learned to muster through boredom and consequently found a sense of meaning and deep connection in the stillness.

What we often call boredom is actually a vehicle for our nervous system to reset—what psychologists refer to as the “rest-and-digest” state. In this space, creativity begins to emerge, curiosity awakens, and we’re more likely to solve problems or discover new approaches. Our minds are free to roam, and boredom becomes a blessing.

With the body and mind at rest, we naturally begin to explore and search for meaning from a safe, relaxed place. This can lead to curious conversations or even roaring laughter as we connect with others. A child who sulks with nothing to do may find their imagination ignited, as their heightened awareness in this restful state sparks a childlike curiosity to discover something new.

As a bored child, I'd walk down the street to my grandparents' neighbors’ home, where my idle curiosity was met with hours of the kind of wisdom only old folks can give. Upon return to my grandparents' home, my boredom led me to my aunt’s lap, where more wisdom was poured into me as I listened to her and my mom talk. Eventually, we’d bake cookies and head to bed—full of cookies, wisdom, and a deep sense of security.

I crave this for my kids today.

This year, as we traveled back to our home state, I relished the boredom my kids experienced with their grandparents. I smiled as I watched them saunter back and forth in the living room, restless yet quietly curious. Equally amused, I chuckled as their grandfather answered their questions between bouts of sleep. They don’t know it yet, but one day they’ll cherish these long afternoons where boredom birthed curiosity.

The safety our souls and bodies felt was both present and nostalgic. For a few priceless days, we experienced margin—a sweet space between living in purpose and productive overload.

So how do we do this in daily life?

As a mom and therapist, I limit my kids’ screen time and encourage outdoor play, creative projects, and physical activity. The TV doesn’t come on until the day is winding down—entertainment is a treat, scheduled for a specific time. In this way, nervous system resets are naturally woven into their waking hours.

My hope is for my children to embrace a sense of stillness in their souls where they find contentment in quiet moments of reflection. I yearn for them to cultivate a life that embraces margin, peace, stillness, and silence—so that there is no emotional demand for vacation. In a way, I’ve become like my dad, calling for quiet time throughout the house. I gift my children with this same blessing, hoping they’ll embrace emotional rest and cultivate it as a sacred space.

As a productive wife, mom, and professional, embracing margin and cultivating an emotional state that doesn’t demand vacation means finding ways to break my routine. I sit and ask, “Okay God, what would you have me do when our usual schedule isn’t necessary?” Usually, I sense the Spirit guiding me to be still and respond moment by moment. This has led me to take five-minute silent retreats—no phone, no conversation, just telling my thoughts to wait. It’s a powerful way to transition between moments: no distractions, just me sitting in silence, giving my body and mind permission to be at ease.

Cultivating a life that doesn’t demand a vacation requires intentionally creating margin, embracing stillness and mindfulness, adjusting thought patterns, and being fully present in the moment. We’ll explore these practices more deeply in Cultivating a Beautiful Life, Part 2.