The sacred art of Momcation

There’s something almost sacred about slipping away.

Not the extravagant kind of escape, where you trade your life for a yoga mat somewhere in Bali.  Or the pack a bag board a jet to some faraway insta-worthy land.   Nothing like that. I mean slipping away like the kind where you kiss your kids on the forehead, bleary-eyed but beaming with excitement, load your thrifted weekender bag into the trunk, grab a dear friend on the way to starbies and point your car toward the edge of cell signal range.

Now that’s a momcation.

No one really talks about those seasons in motherhood where your soul starts to feel weary. Not broken or defeated, just stretched thin like too little butter spread over too much toast. You’re just here... holding hands, holding space, making lunches, and answering the 47th question of the day about why ants exist or what adaptations a frog has.  But between all that, the caring and the feeding and the listening, you’re so focused on showing up for your family, you forget how to simply be.

Without a role (Hey mom….).

Without a task (can you..).

Without the need to prove your worth through productivity or patience.

Cue the momcation. You pick up your bestie. Grab coffee on the way out.  Sounds small right?  But then in that moment something magical happens.

You get to enter the nothing.

And in case you weren’t aware…. Nothing is everything.

The transition is slow by design. There’s no itinerary, unless  of course you count “holding a handful of peanuts out to some whiskeyjacks and trying not to squeal as they land on your hand for a feast”  or “stand at the base of a waterfall and feel the water pour over you like a shower”  as an activity. (Which honestly, should be on way more brochures.)

You drive into the mountains. You stare out at something older than all your responsibilities combined. You stop trying to be a good mom, a good partner... a good anything. You get to drop the facade of expectations and slip into the art of noticing. Noticing how your body feels. Noticing how the sun peeking through the clouds creates light beams that look like they're straight from heaven. Noticing the areas where you neglect your needs to prioritize other things for other people.  And in that sliver of space of noticing you create, something precious finds you.

Maybe its the connectedness with the world around you that somehow always seems to find me when I'm in nature.

Maybe it’s your own voice, finally loud enough to hear.

.Maybe it’s the clarity of mind and heart that only shows up when there’s finally room for it to breathe.

On momcation you get to move at the pace of moss. Sip your iced coffee in one sitting, uninterrupted.  Sleep diagonally in the bed like you singlehandedly invented rest.

Let your hair tangle.

Let your body soften.

Let your mind wander off leash for once, without a commitments or a schedule tugging at its collar.

Truly, the miracle isn’t in what happens out there, it’s the opposite really.  Because the magic is in what doesn’t happen.

No demands.

No to do list.

No emotional labor.

Just presence. Guilt free, glorious, feral presence.

And when you return, because of course you do.  You’re mom.  You love your family to the deepest parts of your soul.  When you return, you come back with a deeper understanding that yes, you are a Mother (and a really good one who cares deeply for your family).

But you are also a woman who remembers how to marvel at the sunset. A woman who knows the shape of her own soul again.  One who has touched the edges of her capacity (sometimes on a daily basis) and found them wide, wild, and alive.  Momcation reminds you what even five minutes of stillness can do and how it can calm the chaos and anchor you back into yourself and what it means to be uniquely and wonderfully you.

You get to return with your heart full.

Gratitude spilling from the cracks.

Renewed. Inspired. Awake.

And ready to show up for your people with a renewed focus on the things that matter. The connection and love. The human experience with these people who mean everything to you.

And truly and deeply, I believe that this is exactly how we are meant to experience life.

So if you’ve been dreaming, waiting for someone to give you permission to slip away, here it is:

Take the road trip.

Go into the trees.

Make it sacred.

Go selfishly and without hesitation.

Make it as small as you need to.

I promise, you don’t need a passport or even a plan. Just a window that rolls down, maybe some road snacks, and a cotton candy sky.

Because when you go into the nothing, the clarity and purpose you return with is everything. <3