There is a kind of holiday that is not measured in miles,
nor assembled from a crowded itinerary.
It is called **Staycation**—
to stay is also to arrive;
without going far, one comes closer to oneself.
When the pulse of the city begins to beat too quickly,
the heart longs to slow its steps at a gentle corner of time.
So we choose a quiet dwelling,
a room softly lifted by light,
where staying in becomes a small ritual of retreat—
withdrawing from the clamor outside,
and anchoring quietly within.
There is no race toward landmarks,
no hurried check-ins along the way.
Only a lingering in the deeper current of time—
to breathe, to restore,
and to be slowly, tenderly healed.
