In the Moment

Eight days into the 30 Days of Indie Travel Project and I’m feeling pretty good about what I’ve created. Sure, I’ve read back through a post or two and boy, if I could go back with a red pen and edit the heck out of a few of them, I probably would. So then today’s prompt: being present in the moment.

Yikes.

BootsNAll really knows how to stick it to a girl. A day where I wasn’t thinking “what’s next?” Do people even have those? A planner by nature, I love Franklin Covey, building timelines, and thinking about what’s on the horizon. I even have difficulty quieting my mind during yoga, where silence and presenteeism reign supreme. Okay, so maybe it’s not that bad. I do love those moments where there is nowhere else you’d rather be and you can appreciate the little nuances of your surroundings and the self-awareness it brings. I still can’t still my mind during yoga, but I’m working on it.

Day 9: One Day

Travel helps us better appreciate the present moment instead of always looking to the next thing. Describe one perfect day you had while traveling this year. Where were you? What were you doing? What made it perfect?

Perched on top of Fern Hill sits the perfect quiet weekend getaway, the Red House.

Our friends Dan and Tara proposed we go away for New Year’s Eve 2010 and they knew the perfect place. Vermont. Thanks to Tara’s mad researching skills and vrbo.com (vacation rentals by owner), we had found our New Year’s Eve event. Why get dressed up for dinner and drinks when you could snowboard by day and curl up in front of the fire at night in your own mountain pied-a-terre?

It really could have been any winter night – bundled up in front of the fire, drinking red wine, listening to music and catching up with good friends. Surrounded by built-in bookcases filled with first editions, Fodor’s travel guides and old typewriters serving as bookends, I remember taking stock of everything in the room, from the smell of the wood burning and The Tallest Man on Earthproviding the soundtrack to the winter chill that seeped through the drafty windows and bottle of Cava which we would use to ring in the New Year.

It struck me that on that night, when people would be casting off the old year and looking forward to 2011 and thinking about all the things they wanted to accomplish in the coming year, there was no place I’d rather be.

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