By Alejandra Ahern, Contributing Opinion
We’re approaching the longest mid-semester break in the academic calendar: spring break. It’s a time most of us have been waiting for since we realized that a certain class was going to be harder than we anticipated or that a professor will never capture our attention through the mire that is an 8:00 a.m. class. While students semi-resentfully refer to fall break as “fall pause” because of its short duration, spring break offers a more significant period away from class. Its length makes many students feel like they have to do something significant with it.
American workers work an average of 1,790 hours a year while the French worker averages 1,482 hours, according to the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD). We are known to the rest of the world by our uncanny ability to pack our schedules to the brim. It is only logical to assume many of us would transfer this same mentality into our vacation time.
Let’s take a moment to consider what extravagant vacation plans over this holiday really mean. While these types of trips may be a good way to make memories, they often require a great deal of coordination and planning. You will constantly be in maximum efficacy mode: figuring out how to make the best of a regrettable Airbnb selection, scouring the town for affordable dining options and attempting to save enough money for activities without completely draining your bank account.
This pace does not offer the margins needed for true restoration and relaxation time. Spring break is one of the few times when students are given the opportunity to refocus. The Brain and Behavior Research Foundation found that “workers who take regular time to relax are less likely to experience burnout, making them more creative and productive than their overworked, under-rested counterparts.”
To further expand on this importance, I think a contemplative pace of life is one we have grown increasingly uncomfortable with. Recently I have noticed how odd I feel when I have a significant period of “free time” during my day. I have come to expect a variety of interest groups grappling for my attention. If I get back to my dorm and realize my assignments for the foreseeable future are completed, my clubs and organizations don’t currently need me and my friends have not planned any elaborate get-togethers, I feel like I am doing something wrong. Should I just accept that feeling and perpetually commit until all unstructured time perishes?
The alternative is entering into spring break without a dominating agenda or plan to optimize outcomes. Often the most meaningful moments in life arise from seemingly mundane interactions rather than the elaborate experiences we try to orchestrate. Allowing yourself to maintain windows of “unconstructive” time will most likely offer you a new perspective. We can reject escapism by giving ourselves the opportunity to pause and reflect without filling our minds with constant distraction.
This does not mean you can’t have some general goals in mind during this week off; by all means, connect with that friend from back home you tend to lose touch with during the hustle and bustle of the semester, or go on some fun day trips.
However, you should do so while intentionally maintaining the integrity of your restorative vacay. There is nothing worse than coming back to the grind only to realize you never took a break in the first place.