休假多久才算夠？

The month of August, that hallowed time when Latin Europe grinds to a sunny halt, concludes with September’s good intentions to sustain the summer’s healthier habits. Rapidly we revert to form.

神圣的8月，拉丁歐洲在明媚的陽光下進(jìn)入假期，暫停很大一部分運(yùn)轉(zhuǎn)。到了9月，人們紛紛抱著保持夏天更健康習(xí)慣的美好愿望。然而我們很快故態(tài)復(fù)萌。

Finnish researcher Jessica de Bloom’s analysis shows the feelings of renewal that people report after a seven-day holiday fade within one to four weeks of returning to work. A short break, concludes a Scientific American article, “is like a cool shower on an oppressively muggy summer day — a refreshing yet fleeting escape”.

芬蘭研究員杰西卡•迪布洛姆(Jessica de Bloom)的分析顯示，人們?cè)?天假期后報(bào)告的那種精神抖擻的感覺會(huì)在恢復(fù)工作的1至4周內(nèi)消退?！犊茖W(xué)美國人》(Scientific American)一篇文章總結(jié)道，短暫的假期“就像在潮濕悶熱的夏日沖一個(gè)冷水澡——提神，但只能帶來短暫的解脫”。

On a continuum from the mini-sabbatical to the French month-long pause to the incredible shrinking US vacation, how much time is enough to not just recover physically but also to motivate a personal course correction?

從小長(zhǎng)假和法國人長(zhǎng)達(dá)一個(gè)月的假期，到美國人不可思議的越來越短的假期，休假多久才足以在恢復(fù)元?dú)獾耐瑫r(shí)，激發(fā)人生道路的調(diào)整?

In keeping with our “smarter, faster, better” culture, Ms de Bloom advises meting out our allotted rest and restoration into shorter, more frequent vacations. But what if we need bigger chunks of downtime to recharge our batteries fully and gain adequate mental distance from our often toxic work environments? Unfortunately, there is scant research to enlighten us.

按照我們的“更聰明、更快、更好”文化，迪布洛姆建議重新安排我們的假期，調(diào)整為更短、更頻繁的假期。但如果我們需要更長(zhǎng)的假期來充足電，并與往往有毒的工作環(huán)境拉開心理距離，那該怎么辦?遺憾的是，目前缺少這方面的研究來啟迪我們。

A 13-year study of four cohorts of investment bankers illustrates the long-term costs of ignoring our bodies’ need for respite. The bankers followed by Alexandra Michel, a Wharton business school professor, pushed the limits of their young bodies with impunity in their first three years as associates. Around year four, they started to break down from overwork.

一項(xiàng)對(duì)4組投資銀行家進(jìn)行的長(zhǎng)達(dá)13年的研究表明，忽視人體對(duì)休息的需求會(huì)帶來長(zhǎng)期代價(jià)。沃頓商學(xué)院(Wharton School)教授亞力山德拉•米歇爾(Alexandra Michel)跟蹤調(diào)查的這些銀行家，在剛進(jìn)投行、擔(dān)任副經(jīng)理的頭三年期間不要命地工作，把自己的年輕身體頻頻推到極限。到了第4年左右，他們開始因過度工作而出現(xiàn)問題。

Eating disorders, tics, sleep disturbances, anxiety and depression were commonplace. Most of them responded by pushing harder to maintain performance.

常見問題是飲食失調(diào)、抽搐、睡眠障礙、焦慮以及抑郁。多數(shù)人的應(yīng)對(duì)方式是加倍努力以保持績(jī)效。

Eighty per cent strongly agreed with the statement: “I am trying harder to control my body but with less success than before.” Starting at year six, 40 per cent had breakdowns so severe they were forced to stop working.

80%的人強(qiáng)烈同意這個(gè)說法：“我更努力地嘗試控制我的身體，但是不像以前那么成功。”從第6年開始，40%的人頂不住，他們的問題如此嚴(yán)重，以至于被迫停止工作。

Responses to the breakdowns fell into two camps. One group treated their bodies as “antagonists”, escalating efforts to exert control. They talked about “letting your body know who is in charge” and submitted to extreme regimes such as lemon-juice only cleanses and boot-camp training.

這些銀行家對(duì)身體故障的反應(yīng)分為兩種。一組人把自己的身體當(dāng)成“對(duì)抗者”，需要加大努力勝過它。他們會(huì)說“讓你的身體知道誰才是主人”，并采取各種極端對(duì)策，如檸檬汁凈化療法和集訓(xùn)式訓(xùn)練。

A second group learnt to treat their bodies as “insightful advisers”, heeding even subtle signs such as low energy as cues: “I learnt to differentiate between being tired and drained. When I am drained, my body says that something isn’t right and I stop and try to figure it out,” said one in this camp.

第二組人學(xué)著把自己的身體視為“有洞察力的顧問”，會(huì)留意到精神不振等細(xì)微跡象，將其視為線索：“我學(xué)會(huì)了區(qū)分疲勞和筋疲力盡。當(dāng)我筋疲力盡時(shí)，我的身體會(huì)提醒我有什么地方不對(duì)勁，我會(huì)停下來試著找到原因，”該組的一位銀行家表示。

The longer intermissions their maladies imposed allowed them to step back for long enough to recognise and reject their companies’ unwritten rules.

疾病帶來的較長(zhǎng)的間歇期讓他們后退一步，認(rèn)識(shí)到——并拒絕——公司的“潛規(guī)則”。

“Once your body forces you to stop certain behaviour, you ask why you engaged in them and whether there are alternatives,” said one director.

一名總監(jiān)稱，“一旦你的身體迫使你停止某種行為，你會(huì)問自己為何要那么拼命工作、有沒有替代選擇。”

As Prof Michel followed her participants into new and different careers at middle age, from the ninth to the 13th year of the study, she also found that avoiding unsustainable work habits takes more than changing jobs or even occupations.

隨著研究進(jìn)入第9至13年，米歇爾教授跟隨步入中年的參與者進(jìn)入了全新的職業(yè)，她發(fā)現(xiàn)，難以為繼的工作習(xí)慣不是跳槽或者改行就能克服的。

Many of them relapsed after moving into organisations that were supposedly less work intensive. Even among those who had learnt to treat their bodies as insightful advisers, a significant number experienced a second breakdown within the first year at their new jobs.

在進(jìn)入工作強(qiáng)度理應(yīng)較小的組織后，他們中的多數(shù)人舊病復(fù)發(fā)了。即使是那些已經(jīng)學(xué)會(huì)把身體視為有洞察力顧問的人，也有相當(dāng)一部分人在進(jìn)入新工作后的第一年內(nèi)經(jīng)歷第二次崩潰。

Not only had they chosen similarly demanding positions but, still weakened from their tenure at the banks, they also failed to take sufficient time in between roles to convalesce and gain psychological distance from their hard-driving selves. Needless to say, they also intensified the pace of work for everyone else, role-modelling behaviours they were then forced to sustain.

他們不僅選擇了類似的高要求職位，而且，在仍然因?yàn)樵阢y行的工作而身體虛弱的時(shí)候，未能在角色轉(zhuǎn)換期花足夠時(shí)間修整，并從心理上遠(yuǎn)離要強(qiáng)的自我。不用說，他們把別人的工作節(jié)奏也搞得緊張兮兮，而他們自己隨后被迫維持榜樣行為。

A spate of neurological studies show that downtime is not only crucial for replenishing the brain’s stores of attention and motivation, but also for sustaining the cognitive processes that make us human. The “time to think” so many of us naively pine for allows us to consolidate memories, integrate what we have learnt, plan for the future, maintain our moral compass and construct a sense of self.

大量神經(jīng)學(xué)研究表明，休假不僅對(duì)大腦恢復(fù)注意力和積極性至關(guān)重要，而且對(duì)維持使我們具有人性的認(rèn)知過程不可或缺。我們?cè)S多人出于本能渴望的“思考時(shí)間”使我們得以鞏固記憶、整合我們所學(xué)的知識(shí)、規(guī)劃未來、恪守我們的道德指南針，并構(gòu)建自我意識(shí)。

The popularity of sabbaticals and adult “gap-years” is but one indication of our desire for respite. Yet, people cram them full of languages to learn and mountains to trek in a manic attempt to increase the yield on our decreasing amount of leisure time, while their organisations claw back time at the front and back end of a hard-negotiated, and often too-short, time period.

長(zhǎng)假和成年人“間隙年”受到追捧，是我們渴望喘息的一個(gè)跡象。不過，人們給這樣的假期塞滿了需要學(xué)習(xí)的外語和需要翻越的高山，瘋狂地試圖“充分利用”日益縮短的休閑時(shí)光，而他們所在的組織在這個(gè)艱難談判得到的、往往太短暫的休假期的前后分派更多任務(wù)，使實(shí)際假期更加短暫。

Still, for those of us who need it most, withdrawal from the fray is rarely voluntary. More often than not our recalcitrant bodies drag us into repose. Maybe it is time to give the way we work a rest.

話雖如此，對(duì)于那些最需要休假的人來說，退出職場(chǎng)打拼很少是自愿的。在更多情況下，不再聽話的身體會(huì)迫使我們休息?；蛟S是時(shí)候讓我們的工作方式休息一下了。