Me time

When I was in school, I’d spend a week or more every summer at camp. Once a day, we’d have an hour or so of “me time”—an hour to take a shower, write a letter, read a book, or do whatever I wanted. The key to me time was that no one directed what we had to do. It was unstructured time with the freedom to be with people, if we wanted, or not. Sometimes I’d just lie on my back on the red sleeping bag, staring up at the boughs of the pine trees overhead.

It was my favorite time. Sometimes I had a pressing need to shower/organize/write. But other times, I just wanted the freedom from structure. To not be in a scheduled, organized activity. To not have someone telling me what to do.

It wasn’t the need to do anything in particular—it was the release from having to do something pre-planned. And that time was never long enough.

Later, when I was a camp counselor, the campers would beg for me time, so I know the need for free time is universal.

And now, as an adult, I need a massive amount of me time, too. I spend so much time being productive—at work, at home, writing, with errands—that having time with no planned activities feels like the freedom I crave as an adult mixed with the things I valued as a child:

Books. Story.

Quiet time. Creative time. Contemplative time. Time to lose myself in my imagination.

We lead such busy lives. Sometimes it’s nice to remember to take some me time.