I am sitting here writing to you all in real time as the rain pours profusely outside while I sip a cup of tea. This morning feels wildly different than last week’s because, well… Last week I was on vacation. And I love vacations. Especially beach vacations. One of my besties likes to say that I live in a perpetual state of FOMO whenever vacation is coming to a close. Without fail, I’m the person calling the hotel manager asking if there’s any chance we can extend our stay by another day… or even just a few more hours… because not one piece of me wants to leave my sweet escape.

I think that feeling comes from a few different roads converging.

One, I’m on vacation, so the everyday rhythm morphs and softens. The calendar loosens its grip. Two, it’s the beach, which carries its own very specific vibration: lounging, swimming, staring into the abyss, sandy toes, sandy sheets, salty hair, books that somehow feel better with a little sunscreen smudged on the pages. But more than all of those delicious givens—and the deeply therapeutic qualities of salt and sea—is that I give myself permission to completely unplug. Which, if you’re a small business owner, you know is no small feat.

So this vacation I made a promise to myself: no immediately waking up to check class numbers, no inbox for issues, no Instagram DMs, no text messages. I was on a full digital detox.The first day always feels a little strange, like my nervous system keeps reaching for a connection that isn’t there. My wiring trips over itself. But eventually… I surrender.

Instead of letting my days be consumed by my phone, I made watercolors. I read books. I played cards. I walked the beach with Frankie in the quiet early hours. I did Pilates (I know… I am very proud of this accomplishment). And I spent long stretches simply staring at the ocean.

Needless to say, I felt fantastic.

At first I wanted to give all the credit to the ocean. Or the salt air. Or vacation itself. And sure, all of those things helped. But the more I sat with it, the more I realized it wasn’t actually the beach that shifted something inside of me.

It was permission.

Permission to not be available.

Permission to not consume.

Permission to not solve the next problem.

Permission to wake up without immediately reaching for my phone.

Permission to simply be exactly where I was.

The beach simply created a container where those things felt easier. But the spaciousness I experienced wasn’t created by the ocean. It was created by what I stopped filling my days with. It made me wonder if spaciousness isn’t somewhere we go at all.

Maybe it’s something we practice.

How often do we wait for vacation to grant ourselves permission that we could offer ourselves on an ordinary Monday?

Maybe that’s what spaciousness actually is.

Not having more hours in the day. Not escaping to the coast. Not finally getting everything crossed off the to-do list. But choosing, even for a moment, not to fill every open space. Creating just enough room to remember ourselves again. Because I think we spend so much of our lives trying to create space only to immediately fill it—with another podcast, another email, another errand, another plan. As if emptiness is something to fear instead of something to savor. But maybe spaciousness isn’t asking to be filled. Maybe it’s asking to be protected. Maybe it’s asking to simply exist. A few extra breaths before reaching for the phone. A slower cup of tea. Looking out the window instead of at a screen. A walk without earbuds. Five minutes with your own thoughts. A side bend that lingers just a little longer.

You don’t need an ocean to experience spaciousness. You may only need permission.

Move with love.

Xoxo,

Holly

Inspiration Station