A friend told me he skipped work last week for a mental health day. He spent it in his basement building a side table for his daughter, who has recently graduated college and gotten a job. My friend said it did him a world of good.
Now if I took a day off to build something nice in the interest of my mental health, I would probably end up having a nervous breakdown. Julee says my Mr. Fix-It skill level doesn’t exceed electrical tape, with duct tape in reserve for the really dire circumstances.
Still, the other night I threw Miss Millie in the back of the truck for my own version of a mental health day and headed for the mountains. The house was dark and chilly when we finally got there and we went right to bed.
In the morning we had bacon and eggs in bed. Then when the sun got warm enough we set up the Appalachian Trail toward South Mountain… the exact path we hiked last summer when we encountered the bear that Millie faced down.
No bears today, though. Too cold. The snow is still calf-deep in parts of the woods. It’s as if we’re the only living things out here. The falling snow even muffles the air. Millie gives me a happy look, yet one that says, Don’t you know you’re supposed to do this all the time?
I know one thing I’m incredibly grateful for: I’ve never felt so mentally healthy.
