The 10 holidays every midlifer needs to take right now
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be going to Mexico for two or seven weeks, and to return gently tanned, laden with skull ornaments and embroidered stuff? Or to see the Galápagos Islands and all the imperiled wildlife? Or go walking, walking, walking your troubles away with a side order of Michelin-starred puddings? Plus dancing? And maybe a boat? But first, what we really need is about 10 weeks off to get into neutral before any travelling begins. If we only had the time, oh, the places we’d go.
A week in a darkened room. Not coming out at all, but just having someone occasionally feed you snacks, maybe stroke your head a little and give you a pedicure. You decide you’d rather be a dog most of the time.
A week to sort out the ‘paperwork’ pile. Like all those hilarious pension-scheme letters from different providers, thanks to that four-year period when you changed jobs a lot… And that mortgage stuff. Afterwards, maybe you’ll turn the paperwork cupboard into a craft cupboard. You’re sure your craft phase is imminent.
A week when no one talks to you. This is not a silent retreat. This is just the tacit understanding that you are operating in silence. No questions. No pointless observations about your hair/health/hydration. You are cushioned from conversation. Is there an essential oil that can make this happen?
A week to text everyone back. Maybe you are a ninja and text EVERYBODY back within the hour. Or maybe, like us, you wake up at 3am thinking, ‘Oh God, I didn’t reply to the estate agent. Or my boss. Or that friend I don’t really like.’ What would it feel like to clear all the text and email debts you have accumulated? Unimaginable.
A week when you Kondo your life. And throw out everything that doesn’t give you joy. EVERYTHING. This means starting from scratch.
A week in the cinema. It’s awards season and everyone is wearing big dresses and talking about films that you had no idea even existed. That Broadchurch lady is going to win an Oscar. Imagine spending an entire week catching up. Eating popcorn. And sleeping. Hold on, is this just the darkened room all over again?
A week when you don’t make any decisions at all. The average Midult woman makes two million decisions before 8am, according to our incredibly scientific and accurate research, which is in no way an exaggeration/lie.
A wailing week. For rending your garments, for howling, for ugly crying, for getting hoarse and snotty but emerging the other side as serene as Buddha. Yup, that serene.
A week on a Peloton bike. With the Cardi B album playing. Look at those abs. Feel the burn. You are so ’90s right now you can’t believe it. With the bottom you had in the ’90s.
A week really meditating. You are constantly on the verge of taking up meditation – you talk about it more than you talk about sex. But what with life and your uncertain attention span, it has just never happened. Actually, you have sex more often than you meditate. And that’s saying something.
