A Visit to the Catskills
a week with no agenda was just what the doctor ordered.
This summer, deep in my bones, I craved the Mediterranean. It was one day in early July that I exhaled and envisioned myself in a small town somewhere where I couldn’t speak the language. I’d become a regular at a charming market, buying seasonal fruits and vegetables often, and eat crudités with a side of feta drenched in delightfully tannic olive oil, sitting on a beach with crystal-clear waters. I’d find a lagoon to bathe nude in, reconnecting with mamma earth. I’d read a stack of good books, and lose myself in the characters. The level of burnout I had reached was unhealthy at work, and I knew that this type of truly disconnected break would infuse new life into my bones. For the true repair my system craved, I would need at least three weeks, but I only had one week to take (that I had to put in some true blood, sweat, and tears to earn, but that’s a story for another day). Accepting the short time I could take, Dan and I decided to stay stateside. I spent a few weekends meditating on where nearby could grant me a similarly restorative experience, and finally landed on the Catskills. So we packed up the Jeep and drove north.
We chose to stay at Kenoza Hall, a dainty property with lake access and peaceful grounds. I wanted to exist for five days in utter tranquility and truly repair my frazzled system. I excitedly packed four books (I’m halfway through two of them, but honestly, it was quite ambitious), and I spent my days lazing by the pool, enjoying afternoon coffees, going to the spa for the barrel sauna and their refreshing cold plunge, and (with zero pressure) explored a few of the neighboring towns (Bethel, Livingston Manor, Honesdale, etc). Each night, a fire pit was lit for us, and reminiscent of summers past, some of the more curious guests would gather around the flames, leaving phones behind and learning a bit about each other’s journeys.
In fact, the fire pit became our favorite daily activity. We looked forward to it, and found ourselves reminiscing over the cast of characters we had met the night prior each morning. It felt like the property’s best kept secret. It became our ritual. Each night, I met a human who imparted a universe’s message to me. It felt so oddly divine that I had to turn to Dan several times throughout our stay to say, “you’re hearing this too, right?”
The week away ended up satisfying a lot of the yearning I had for that small town in the Mediterranean. Although nowhere as exotic, I had time to truly unwind. I remembered my belly and my breath, and I reconnected with my inner child. I could’ve easily stayed another week in the crisp summer air of the Catskills.
Until next time.
