Spring has sprung, and so have I.
I did not go to Mont-Tremblant. I went to Puerto Vallarta instead, and I would make that decision a thousand times over. My friend E had been pushing for a ski trip since I got back to North America, but the window I operate in when it comes to ski trip is late January or first week of February at the latest and it had already closed. We were in March. The math wasn't mathing, and the moment I priced out ground transportation alone, the decision made itself. I have learned that ski trips punish indecision; book late and the prices become almost offensive. I made my case, told her I would rather be on a beach with a margarita in hand, and that was all the permission I needed to book my spring break.
This year I made myself a promise to choose ease, practise softness, and be militant about both. Not as a concept I admire from a distance, but as a daily decision. What I did not anticipate was how quickly that commitment would force me to look at all my relationships differently.
I am someone who shows up. consistently, quietly, without keeping score. What I realised this year is that a lot of people in my life had come to count on exactly that, my presence, my energy, my availability while offering very little in return. I was on speed dial for the hard days but invisible on the good ones. So I did what needed to be done. No dramatic announcements, no lengthy explanations. If I reflected on our relationship and the giving had only ever gone one direction, I simply stepped back. The Irish goodbye, as it turns out, is deeply underrated.
This is my season for receiving. I am not accepting applications for anything else. Thank you very much!
When I decided on a beach vacation, I knew exactly what I wanted, a premium, all-inclusive, and genuinely restful one. Now, I will be upfront, I am not naturally an all-inclusive person. I am particular about food in a way that buffets simply do not accommodate. Breakfast buffets I can work with, give me a clean avocado toast or a well-made omelette and I am satisfied. But dinner buffets? Absolutely not!
So before I committed to anything, I found a resort that balances buffet and à la carte dining well enough to keep my inner food snob at bay. I also called the hotel in advance to confirm that my preferred alcohol brands were available, the last thing I needed was a hangover from something I would never have chosen sober. I researched the activities, loved what I found, and packed my bags. The most telling decision I made during the planning process was choosing NOT to book a diving excursion. I love diving. But hauling a tank, assembling gear, and being responsible for my own oxygen supply does not align with a trip built around being looked after. I caught myself reaching for the booking page and stopped. Ease.... That was the assignment.
The moment I landed, Puerto Vallarta made its case immediately. The scenery was stunning, the energy warm and infectious, and the air had that particular quality that only exists near the ocean, the kind that slows your nervous system down whether you want it to or not. I had barely set my bags down when I spotted a pool party in full swing. I asked a hotel guest service how long it had left and she said about an hour. I left my things with her and jumped straight in. That spontaneous, entirely unplanned hour turned out to be one of the best moments of the whole trip which, in hindsight, is very on brand for what ease actually looks like in practice. My room was everything. Floor to ceiling views of the ocean, and waves that crashed against the shore all night long in the most disarming way. I did not know that sound could function as a lullaby until Puerto Vallarta taught me. I tend to wake early, so I made a ritual of catching the sunrise from the beach before the rest of the world showed up. That quiet, that light, that stillness, became the part of each day I looked forward to most.
The hotel managed all the itineraries, which meant my only job was to show up on schedule. Water yoga, kayaking, beach volleyball, a foam party, and more swimming than I have done in months. I ate abundantly. I rested deeply. I drank like someone who had absolutely nowhere to be the next morning. And somehow, I did all of it at once.
I brought the book "The Body Keeps the Score with me", which in retrospect was either very intentional or very telling (possibly both). Reading about the relationship between the body, memory, and healing while lying on a beach, actively choosing rest, felt less like coincidence and more like confirmation. Some books find you at exactly the right time. This was one of them.
Puerto Vallarta was not just a holiday. It was evidence. Evidence that choosing ease is not laziness or indulgence, it is a practice, and one that requires just as much discipline as anything else I have committed to. I came back rested in a way I had forgotten was possible, lighter in ways that had nothing to do with luggage. This is the theme going forward.
