Although I find pleasant to have some breaks during the year, I never understood this social necessity to “go in holidays”. It comes probably from the fact that I experienced my first 13 years as permanent holidays travelling with my parents from one country to another. Holidays exist in the instant. A ring from my wife when she has an enthusiastic voice, a phone conversation with a friend at the office, a lunch in a fine restaurant with a pleasant are moments of holidays.

The distance implied by the use of a language which is not your mother language probably helps to express difficult things. Unfortunately there is a loose in accuracy and a risk of misunderstandings.  

Written while commuting to Paris - France

My son's name is Valentin. This child is a so-called "gifted" child. It reminds me about one of my few best friends from college. His name was also Valentin. He was probably also a gifted boy. He was excellent at school and got graduated among the very first ones with an incredibly high score. We were playing music in the same middle ages music group. He was able to play very well any new instrument he was trying in less than one year, switching for instance from piano to trombone. Unfortunately, his father had troubles with his business. As a consequence of that (and potentially of other issues unknown from me) his father was scarcely present at home. The relationship between his parents was monthly getting worse and worse (they are now divorced). My friend started having personal difficulties at an age which is critical for boys. He started to drift from any reasonable reference, in particular concerning his political opinions. After graduation he decided to enter the university without any clearly defined project, when his capabilities were opening him all the doors from the top ranking engineering schools to the music academies. His years at the university ended with a disaster. No diploma, deep depression, heavy medical treatments. Years later, he has an obscure non-qualified job and survives. He listen from time to time to some music and doesn't play any more any instrument. I phoned him and got scared by the sound of his voice. I feel I can't leave him alone like that. I have to find the courage to invite him at home. Morality : my duty with respect to my family can't stand any compromise. I don't want my Valentin to become like this Valentin.
Written in Paris - France