On Relaxation

A student told me today, "Whatever it is you do to relax, Mrs. Anderson, please do it." I gave a flip response, but his comment has been bugging me. I just finished watching The Devil Wears Prada, a film I've resisted watching because, frankly, I've lived it. I used to live a life that lent itself to relaxation: go to a coffee shop, read the NYT Magazine, then cocktails, then dinner at the "now" NYC or SF spot, then more cocktails and pithy exchanges... Those days are gone, and I can't decide whether or not I miss them. I made a conscious choice to give them up in favor of the life that I have now - a life with meaning, no doubt - but there are some evenings, after a glass of wine and the announcement of a former Columbia floormate having won the Booker prize or the Pulitzer, that I wonder what meaning is really most significant?