Living Life on Holiday :: The Manifesto

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I want to live my life like I'm on holiday.

All the time.

That’s my dream. That’s what I want.

Don’t tell me I can’t have it. Don’t tell me that wasn’t an option. I’m pretty sure when you asked the question, “What do you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” there wasn’t an asterisk at the end leading to a footnote of exceptions.

So, I want to live my life like I’m on holiday.

I want to notice the world around me. The temperature and scent of the breeze, how clear the night sky is, the quaint, teal mailbox on that charming brick row house. The little details that I always seem to pass by in my normal life. They’re beautiful. Small. Simple. Playful. Surprising. Easily overlooked but not on holiday. I pay attention to details on holiday.

I want to take my time. Enjoy my surroundings. Sit with a book and a cup of tea and read.

I want to follow inspiration and passions as they come to me. They’re fleeting, you know. Inspiration and passion. If you don’t answer their call when they come they’ll leave and there’s no saying when they’ll be back. But if you answer and let them in then they stick around. The best house guests you’ll ever have. They visit me often on holiday. Not so in the everyday.

I want to explore. New sights. History. The inner workings of my crazy brain and loving heart. 

I want to watch the sunset. Or the sunrise. Or a rainstorm come through.

I want to eat all the food. Good, fresh, simple but utterly decadent food. Food that is orgasmic. Food that is new to me. Delicious food that I always seem to find on holiday. It’s everywhere, and I make an art of eating it all.

I want to move. Ironically, in the stillness and relaxation of holidays I always seem to move more. Twenty miles on our first day in France last summer in an effort to beat jet lag and see parts of the city we’ve never seen (even though we were so tired we kept walking to the places we knew out of habit). Runs on the beach. Hikes to a waterfall. Bike rides to nowhere in particular. My two capable feet taking me somewhere.

I want to play dress up. My dog doesn’t give two licks what I wear and, since I work from home with only my dog as company, I find myself phoning it in. On holiday the clothes come out. Outfits planned so that I can go weeks with only a carry-on yet endless options of wonderful looks. Skirts and dresses. Scarves and hats. Jewelry. All of it. Still simple because a carry on doesn’t hold a lot, and I’m on holiday so I don’t want to fuss. But thoughtful. Elegant. Me.

This is what I want.

It is a state of being that I see as perfectly suited to the everyday. Countercultural, yes. Infeasible, no. Desirable, hell yeah!

So, what do I plan to do with my one wild and precious life?

I plan to live it. Like I’m on holiday. Every day.

Jessica Jo Fisher