The vacation. The seemingly rarest of joys — and the most intimate, incomparable, and unshakable of all human experiences. For most of us, it is something we save for our twilight years after we have set down roots and built families. For most of us, it is something we sacrifice for in one form or another for most of our lives. If there is a national ritual for Americans — a common bond uniting us from sea to sea — it is vacationing.
There is no more important marker of a life well spent than the vacation we take. The value of travel is often underestimated, and it is the sense of timelessness that travels can engender that speaks volumes about what a vacation really means. The itinerary of a vacation is an affirmation of who we are and what we seek. It is a reminder that we can shape and renew ourselves, find satisfaction in the vicissitudes of the natural world, and experience joy in the rhythms of a simple community. A vacation moves us away from our oppressively programmed lives, offers us a perspective on the larger reality, and, in the process, reshapes who we are.
The fact that our experiences can affect us and our world profoundly is a special gift. Rather than taking for granted this marvelous gift, we might treat it with the sort of reverence it deserves. You fucking moron.