The Optimistic Traveller

I had my air pods in, the sound of the ocean all around me. I sleep with them in sometimes, mostly to drown out snoring. Sea, rippling rivers, or rain are the only sounds that don’t disturb me when I bed down for the night, and I’ve experienced some of the best sleeps tempting the fates of continence with an open window to nearby waves or a storm. (Isn’t the sound of water supposed to make you need to pee? So far, I’ve had no accidents.) I do live near the ocean, which I can hear, rarely, an almost inaudible mild rumble in the distance. On this night, I woke up to rolling waves remarkably real. I was surprised to look to my left and not see a balcony with the crashing ocean below.

As I used the bathroom, Fred, who wakes from sleep when I do, especially when the bathroom is involved, came with half-closed eyes to say hello. I pet him. He’s still a rambunctious kitten, but when newly wakened, he’s loving, even deferential. 

A bit of light shone in from the moon.

I said to myself, “This is Heaven.”

I had traveled to a place without going anywhere – a place of great contentment and comfort granted by mere sounds and the touch of a pet. I was struck by the contrasting times I’ve thought that phrase “This is Heaven,” and I realized, with gratitude, that so much joy – yes, even “Heaven,” while it means different things to different people – can be found without spending money or hassling through a trip away from home.

I suppose this is a column about travelling in your mind.

Maybe you think this piece has no business being on a travel website, but I would submit that there are many readers out there who have a hard time freeing themselves to live in the moment and find pleasure in small things – and I’m here to help them let go. It’s about allowing yourself to appreciate the everyday and to imagine how fortunate we are to have an “everyday” to begin with.

Sometimes I walk down to the beach on a weekday or in the off-season, even if it’s chilly, plant my chair in the sand, and read, a discreet beverage and fresh fruit, preferably cherries, in my bag. The salt air, the view, and the brief moments of solitude, the good words before me, the warmth of brown bourbon or deep red wine in my throat. Gulls nearby eyeing me, just in case I’ve got a treat to spare; the sound of their calling. And I say, “What perfection – I can stay here all day.” And maybe I can.

Just smelling a flower can do it to me. Or a tomato vine. Or fresh basil.

Falling asleep on clean sheets, or a new pillow, or sinking into restorative slumber after fitful nights, can be immensely pleasurable — practically orgasmic.

Good ice cream, so often self-denied.

Making my son smile.

Art on the walls.

Uninhibited laughter with friends.

Finding a bargain.

Belting out a song, or dancing by yourself, or yelling in your car.

A walk through dense woods, pine needles afoot and shafts of light above.

Café latte, and the time to drink it while it’s still hot.

These things may not be Heaven to you – your Heaven might be pork rinds and a Rangers game. That’s not the point. 

Travelling doesn’t require putting distance between you and home, and it doesn’t even require extra money.  It merely needs imagination. If you’re triggered into FOMO on social media or bogged down by a work project or having a disagreement with your partner, or even legitimately trying to plan your “real” vacation – just go there in your mind. Grab whatever around you will help you get there most easily and take a trip to your happy place. I think you’ll find it’s not far away at all.