There’s a certain charm in spontaneity. The thrill of a last-minute getaway, the excitement of packing your bags without a concrete itinerary, the freedom of chasing horizons without a care in the world. I had envisioned exactly that—an escape, a sun-soaked adventure, a much-needed breather from the daily grind. But reality had other plans, and those plans looked a lot like my living room.
My dream of an out-of-town retreat crumbled under the weight of my finances. I wasn’t exactly in vacation mode, at least not in a way that involved beaches, fancy resorts, or long road trips with the wind whipping through my hair. No, this Holy Week, my adventure was confined to the four walls of my room, with the scorching summer sun casting a golden glare outside like a stubborn gatekeeper preventing me from stepping out.
With PAGASA reporting heat indices soaring between 40 to 48 degrees Celsius, staying indoors wasn’t just an option—it was a survival strategy. The air felt heavy, as if the heat had hands pressing down on my shoulders, urging me to sink deeper into the comfort of my bed. Even if my budget had permitted me to indulge in a little escapism, the thought of jostling through crowds at the beach, fighting for a slice of sand, and sweating through the festivities made the decision to stay home feel like divine intervention.
So, with five unscheduled days ahead of me, I leaned into the art of leisure. I let go of schedules, responsibilities, and the pressure to be productive. Instead, I surrendered to stillness, the sweet symphony of doing nothing.
And oh, the joy of sleep. I slept as if the world outside didn’t exist. No alarms, no meetings, no urgent emails clawing for my attention—just pure, uninterrupted rest. The kind of sleep that wrapped me in a cocoon of dreams, the kind that made me forget what day it was. It was bliss.
When I wasn’t lost in the depths of slumber, I indulged in the underrated pleasure of binge-watching. Streaming platforms became my portal to different worlds—thrilling mysteries, heartwarming romances, mind-bending sci-fi adventures. I hopped from one fictional universe to another, living vicariously through characters who embarked on adventures far grander than mine. And honestly? I didn’t envy them. There was something deeply satisfying about curling up on my bed, the dim glow of the screen illuminating my face, completely lost in stories without the burden of moving from one place to another.
Then, of course, came the feast. If there’s one thing that turns an ordinary staycation into an indulgent retreat, it’s food. My mom, in her infinite wisdom and culinary brilliance, whipped up Ginataang bilo-bilo—the creamy, coconut-laden dessert that is part nostalgia, part comfort, and wholly irresistible. As I savored each spoonful, the world outside ceased to exist. The heat? Forgotten. The crowded beaches? Irrelevant. The missed vacation? Who cared?
Not one to be left out of the kitchen magic, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Ginataang mais, my childhood favorite, found its way onto the stovetop. Stirring the warm coconut mixture, watching the golden grains of corn meld into the velvety sweetness—it was therapeutic, almost meditative. While many Catholics observed meat abstinence during Holy Week, I decided to embrace indulgence instead. I fired up the grill, marinated my liempo, and crafted my own version of chicken inasal. The aroma alone was enough to make staying home feel like the best decision I had ever made.
As the long weekend slowly unraveled, I couldn’t help but reflect. Was this the vacation I had envisioned? Not at all. But did I need an elaborate itinerary to feel fulfilled? Absolutely not.
Sometimes, life hands you unplanned moments that are surprisingly wonderful. Sometimes, rest is more valuable than adventure. Sometimes, staying still is an experience in itself.
This Holy Week, I learned that joy isn’t tied to grand destinations or perfect travel plans. Sometimes, it exists right where you are, in the spaces of unhurried mornings, in the simplicity of homemade meals, in the quiet enjoyment of your own company.
And as the workweek looms ahead, I step forward refreshed, carrying the wisdom that perhaps the best vacations aren’t about the places you go—but the peace you find in simply being.