Cape Cod Again

Once we reach the Bourne Bridge every summer, my body and mind instantly relax. At that point, I always forego the air conditioning in the car in favor of an open window so I can breathe in the salty air from the Cape Cod Canal. And I always look to my left and then my right, imagining I can see Cape Cod Bay to the north and Buzzard’s Bay to the south. This combination of sight and smell acts like a magic elixir for my soul.

For at least 15 years, typically on the last Saturday in July, our family makes our annual pilgrimage to Mashpee, Massachusetts. Once we arrive in Mashpee, but before we reach our final destination, we always stop at Zoe’s pizza for dinner with its yellow walls and lack of air conditioning. A quick trip to the Stop & Shop next door to buy a few essentials, like Diet Coke, follows. These are just a few examples of the annual rituals we follow.

From there, we head to a little house on the ocean, the same one we have rented for years. There is a little grassy area outside the house’s front door for practicing soccer or playing two-on-two Wiffle ball. Beyond the grass and a patch of purply beach plum bushes is a gravel path that leads down to the most extended, steepest set of stairs on the planet. And at the bottom of those stairs is a small beach, which is little more than a landing strip before you reach the waves of Nantucket Sound. I swear that on a clear day, I can see the shadowy outline of Martha’s Vineyard on the horizon, although I have been told that it is doubtful that I can genuinely see 35 miles out to sea!

I love this tiny, quiet, and somewhat secluded place. It is among my favorite on the planet, partly explaining why we go to Mashpee every summer.

But it is more than that. My girls love it as much as I do. They look forward to this trip every year and talk about going again the other 51 weeks of the year we are not there. They both have mentioned that years down the road, they plan to take their own kids to this same spot for an annual vacation.

We love the familiarity most of all. I joke that the only things that have changed in the last 15 years are: our rent for the house has doubled, the girls have grown taller than me, and my knees hurt much more when I climb up those stairs!

Now here is the rub. I find myself minimizing this trip to others and justifying why we go every year. When asked where we are going on vacation, I always say, “Cape Cod again. We stay at the same house every year. Boring, right?”

Although I know I have said these phrases for years, this summer is the first time I indeed heard what I was saying. So I challenged myself to explain why I do this. Why do I take a beloved family tradition and diminish it? Why do I minimize the importance of the only place in the world where I truly relax? Why do I downplay years of happy memories of my girls’ quickly disappearing childhoods?

I am not proud of my answers to these questions. It is because the same vacation every year is not as exciting as the African safaris taken by my colleagues. It is because I feel dull and inadequate when I compare myself to others. It is because I am embarrassed that I want to go to the same place every year and am not interested in spending that week somewhere else that is more exotic.

So to recap, going on vacation every summer to the place I love most, with the people I love most, makes me feel inferior. That certainly sounds absurd. Logically, I know feeling inferior is something made up inside my head. But, wow, it takes effort to banish it. When I examine my behavior in these circumstances, I am reminded of a quote by Sally Kempton: “It is hard to fight an enemy who has outposts in your head.”

And with that realization a month ago, I attempted to change my mindset. As I began to do with the many things I find lacking about myself, I leaned into my love of this vacation.

I decided to own this beloved family tradition and see it for its true value. Instead of viewing myself as boring, I see myself as lucky. Lucky to have a place that brings me so much peace. Lucky to have people I love to share it with. Lucky to have the luxury of taking a vacation at all (a luxury I did not have until I was in my late 20s).

My anxious mind’s ability to distort situations never ceases to amaze me. But again, I know I am not alone in having moments of anxiety and insecurity that obscure the good in our lives. Or in having knees that have seen better days! t is all a matter of perspective.

I am hopeful that the day will come in my life and every person’s life when we are free of insecurities. I want us all to be able to own who we are. I want us all to reach a point where we are content just being ourselves and realizing that is enough. I do not know when that day will be for me, but I know that the further I get on life’s journey, the closer I come to acceptance.