Returning...

Yesterday was my first full day back at work after 5 weeks of travelling.

Yes, I worked in the last 5 weeks, but it was scattered -- an hour here, a book circle there, a few emails as time allowed.

As part of my "return" to the office, I met up with some fellow facilitators, to discuss what "returning" means for us.

After a thorough check-in where we put our summer in a bottle, our host showed us images of different archetypes of return to inspire us to reflect on our own return to work after the summer.

I realized that my summer was full of returns.

⏎ I returned to the lake where I spent my summers as a child.
⏎ Then I accompanied my husband as we returned to the French village where he spent his summers a child.
⏎ Last week, we returned to our own home, here in the South of France.
⏎ Yesterday, I returned to my little office, with my rainbow bookshelves, and my view of the mountains.

We also spent time differentiating between spaces and places.

A place being the physical environment.
A space being an intimate experience.

Not only did I return to the place of my childhood summers, but also to a space -- water skiing.

It's something that I only get to do once a year (if my body cooperates.)

Each year, I wonder, "What if I can't get up anymore?"

The husband, nieces, nephews, and children have all moved on to more "modern" water sports, including wakeboarding and wake surfing, but I am still connected to water-skiing.

There is something magical about renewing a commitment to something you learned as a child, and doing it again 40+ years later.

When I was a child, the lake was full of small cabins with huge yards. Now there are enormous houses, with no yards, and too many boats to make stand up paddling much fun.

The place has completely changed.

The space and experience of water-skiing is just like I remember.

-- The getting up early to ensure a quiet and calm lake.
-- The hesitation to dive into the water and the first chills.
-- The re-finding your balance in the water, with both feet on the one ski.
-- The initial pull of the boat on the ski rope, awaiting the full power.
-- The splash of water as you rise out of the water and find your footing.
-- The full rise out of the water and the pulling down of the life jacket because it has risen up.
-- The first movement out of the wake, pulling in the rope, as you make the turn, and race across the wake to the other side.
-- The desire to turn sharp enough to create an even bigger wall of water than you did the last turn.

Do you ever return to an experience you loved as a child? What's that like for you?

⬆️​ Yes, this is me this summer :)

Originally posted on LinkedIn with comments.

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