THAT HOLIDAY OF HEART’S DESIRE.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 19946, 13 November 1926, Page 21

THAT HOLIDAY OF HEART’S DESIRE.

Holidays are, of course (says a writer in an English exchange) as varied as life itself. On the whole, they are rather less interesting than the rest of life, and this in spite of the opportunities they give us of seeing the ancient and the curious, the beautiful and the I famous. Ordinary life gives us greater opportunities of meeting with the unexpected. Nothing could be less adventurous than the average holiday spent at the average seaside resort, however enjoyable. It is not only that all the pleasures are planned and uniform, but that human beings themselves in such conditions show at their least diverse. They are _ apt to talk about exactly the same things, joke about the same things, to philander in the stereotyped fashion. Some people deliberately seek the unconventional holiday, characterised by material simplicity and intellectual richness, and these more serious souls find a good measure of satisfaction. Then there are the rich or the reckless, who happen to know where to go for excitement, and how to make it their own when they are there. That holiday of heart’s desire hangs mirage-like above the horizon —for many of us a dream or a memory. Its 'first characteristic is that of unbounded space —an incalculable remove from all talk of “us poor ratepayers” or “our supremacy in sport.” There is freedom, there is a wide, changing sky, there is the salt freshness of the sea, or the lovely earthy tang of the moor. There is the true spirit of holiday, that rare thing, and at the heart of the holiday there is companionship. Some people find their companionship in the earth and the sky, but they are rare; others are so fortunate as to find it in perfection in another mind. Holidays are failures when only the externals are right. The finest feast is an empty feast when there is no one to share your appreciation of it. “Scenes that are brightest may charm awhile,” and scenes that are grandest may impress us so that momentarily we forget our very selves, but it is true of them, as of all forms of beauty, all forms of gaiety, ‘with none to love us how sad they seem.” The holiday of heart’s desire is companionship, surrounded by space. Like most perfect things it is not achieved by taking pains, nor yet by the spending of large sums of money. It is in part a matter of chance. We can help the gods to be good to us in this way by nourishing those companionships that we have, by keeping our friendships and our loves as fresh and vital as we can all the year round. Even then the luck may go against us, for any two ideally suited holiday-makers may be unable to set out together. Still, let us never forget that companionship is the heart of a holiday. The richest and happiest people are those who enter into it most deeply.