One of the thoughts that crossed my mind during the week was how we rarely if ever take a break.

I’m not talking about holidays – although most of us don’t take our full allotment of holidays in one go, and when we do we invariably fill those days with adventure, excitement and stimulation.

No, I’m talking about the ‘40 days in the wilderness’ stuff, the retreat (religious or otherwise) that allows us to go somewhere quiet and do little else except recharge our thoroughly depleted batteries and spend days and nights in quiet alcohol-free contemplation.

There are so many competing demands on our time, even away from the hurly-burly of work, that the opportunity to escape for any period longer that a long-weekend is sadly not an option for the vast majority of us.

Yet how different might our mental health be if we allowed ourselves the luxury (and it IS a luxury) of unplugging from the world for two or more weeks whilst still having our basic needs of food, shelter and personal safety met? How less anxious might we become? How less stressed might we return?

Perhaps only those who are stressed, depressed or anxious might understand the need to ‘disappear’ from view for a little while… our already over-worked families and friends would, I’m sure, be less than impressed by our desire to unhitch ourselves from our responsibilities and dump even more of a load on them. I can’t say I blame them.

But in an ideal world wouldn’t it be lovely to have the freedom to be able to leave all one’s worldly cares and possessions behind and disappear for ‘forty days and forty nights’ in order to face one’s demons and peer into the murky depths of one’s own black soul?

With thanks to Drinda for the inspiration behind this post.

Please note the medical disclaimer.