The day I didn't go anywhere

Welcome back to another issue. This week I’m taking you to the quietest day of the Maine trip, where the mountain did all the talking.

✦ LIFE — The day that wasn’t planned

As the sun came up and the sky kept getting brighter, so did I.

The fog rolled in first, patches of clouds filling the clear blue sky, the lush green mountains stretching from my feet to the horizon. I made myself some honey chamomile tea, stood on that porch, and just breathed. I think I was listening to SZA — maybe Lana, I don’t remember — singing to myself, taking pictures, dancing alone. Nobody watching. Nobody needing anything. Just me and the mountain.

This was the morning after a very loud night. And if day one had taught me anything, it was that this mountain had a way of delivering exactly what you needed.

I was out there for about three hours. My body was exhausted but I was wide awake and somehow — calm. That’s what alone time in nature does to me. I think, I contemplate, I form thoughts, I practice gratitude. I grow. Around 8 am, when I finally felt rested in my mind, I knew it was time to let my body catch up. I headed inside.

It was everything.

What followed was the simplest day of the entire trip. Hot tub, pool, porch, music, journaling, more seafood. I didn’t go anywhere. I didn’t plan anything. The mountain did all the talking.

I always add an extra day to every trip I take. Not for activities — just for being.

Most people plan a trip wall to wall, and yes, that’s the point — explore, eat, see everything. But I’ve come to see travel as more than that. A trip is a sneak peek of what life could look and feel like somewhere else. How people move, what they eat, how the mornings feel. And no matter how long the trip, it’s also a reason to step away from the daily grind — so taking an extra day to slow down, reflect, and bring those fresh perspectives home feels important to me.

Travel is how I collect myself. Not fridge magnets, not keychains — identity shifts. A new food I’ll seek out at home. A quality of stillness I want to carry back. A conversation that stays with me long after the trip ends. Those are my souvenirs. They don’t weigh anything.

And of course, a million pictures and videos.

✦ GROWTH — Travel light

The most valuable things you bring home from a trip don’t fit in a suitcase.

Not the souvenir, not the photo — though the photos are non negotiable. It’s the small shifts. The way a place changes how you see your own life. A new food that becomes a staple. A pace of living you want to bring back. A version of yourself that felt more like you somewhere else.

Those identity shifts are quiet. They don’t announce themselves. But they stack up trip after trip, and slowly they become who you are.

Travel light.

✦ ACTION — Your souvenir

Think about the last trip you took — even a short one. What did you bring back that doesn’t weigh anything? A feeling, a habit, a shift in perspective?

Write it down this week. Those are your real souvenirs.

Hit reply and tell me what it was.