By many people’s standards, I have done nothing exciting during my two-week vacation. I’ve taken no trips, visited no museums, seen no movies, gone to no parties. Most people, I suspect, would feel sorry for me for having had such a "dull" spring break. “Poor Ham,” they might say. “What a dreary holiday for him!” What’s odd about this is that, actually, I have had a thoroughly inspiring two weeks. True, I have taken no trips by car or plane or train, but I have traveled through the pages of two enthralling books (George Eliot’s Middlemarch and Milton’s Paradise Lost). And no, I have not visited any museums or movies, but I have spent valuable time visiting my own thoughts and feelings, just wandering around inside myself to see the miracles happening in my mind and heart. It’s true that I have attended no parties during this vacation, but, if parties are defined as celebrations, then I attended countless “parties” during this holiday time as I gratefully celebrated the myriad gifts I’ve been given. I celebrated my good health, my ability to see and hear, the fact that each day is pristinely new, and the fact that my heart keeps beating at a stable, balanced pace. Some people might pity me for my “boring” vacation, but they would do well to save their sympathy for more deserving people. By my standards, I’ve had a perfectly stirring and blissful vacation.