Earlier this year, we hosted Aisha Louis at Getaway Talladega Valley in Childersburg, AL for a couple’s escape to nature to disconnect from the noise and reconnect to herself. Here’s what she had to say about her experience.
I used to pride myself on being a master multi-tasker. As someone who has always been ambitious and finds my hands in a variety of tasks, projects and commitments, I’ve worn the badge of hyper-productivity with honor. It’s not until that badge meets the fury of inevitable burnout that one must face the realities of what it means to be human; you cannot do it all, nor should you try to. And to be honest, I’ve often had to ask myself what supposedly “doing it all” was really worth when it would cause harm to myself, my performance and even my relationships. I’ve quickly had to learn that not only will the realities of allowing myself to burnout always show up, but that it’s also important to be vigilant in doing the things that deter me from getting to that point. So when the opportunity came for my partner and I, who both have donned that infamous badge, to decide on what to do to celebrate our anniversary, a Getaway was the perfect option.
As we set forth on the 2 hour drive to our destination, I pondered on what exactly it means to need to get away. Perhaps one of the most imperative yet difficult steps I had to learn when recovering from burnout stems from something I should have been prioritizing in the first place; disconnection. As a content creator and millennial, the level of muscle memory that is associated with those “quick scrolls” for that expected dopamine hit early in my day or late into my evening can be quite scary. In the journey of becoming more aware of my burnout triggers, leaning into disconnection from all of the apps, certain entertainment and even just the presence of a digital screen itself has been a game changer. So once we settled into our perfect and quaint little cabin tucked into nature, I tried to remember this. And what came of that were days of exploring the beauty of the Beeswax loop, hours long conversations with the sounds of a crackling bonfire in the background and taking an almost ridiculous amount of time cooking every meal together because, what was the rush? And that alone was glorious.
As our time in our cabin dwindled down, we spent the final morning taking our time waking up and enjoying the view outside of our panoramic window. My eyes fixated on a squirrel scaling up and down a tree and I wondered what exactly was so rejuvenating and needed from this place. What’s so magical about it? My answer soon came from the silence. It was just that. The silence. Oftentimes, it’s not until you remove the noise, which in this case was multifaceted, that you find what you actually need. I say multifaceted because there was an audible silence of course; the departure from the hustle and bustle of life in a city, the sounds of traffic, the voices in the workplace and the reminders of your day to day responsibilities. But I also recognized that the lack of excess stuff also represented a sort of silence as well. One of my first impressions of our cabin was that although petite, it had everything we needed. What it seemingly “lacked” in size, it had in intention. Having and thriving off of just what you need heavily reminds you of what you don’t. And as my partner and I laughed and talked and put our phones down more and committed to getting away in our little cabin that had all we needed, I was sure I discovered what that magic is.