All current body temperatures aside, I finally feel that my peripatetic sensitivity has served me in getting my travel self-care strategies down to a fine art. I offer these words in the spirit of not only shining the light on ways to stealthily keep the drive alive as I arrive and thrive, but also to show how there is no perfect way to skin the travel-care-101 cat — and that we all learn as we go. 

All it took for me to learn that I needed to carry earplugs with me everywhere, was the fourteenth chatty-Cathy stewardess sharing with the people in front of me fascinating yet loud details about the upcoming pleasures of the city toward which we were hurtling while I was trying to get the sleep I hadn’t gotten that week on the flight. Earplugs in pocket (not in purse or bag because when you stow them, which you inevitably will, you’ll have head nodding moments after taking off and you’ll have to wait a valuable 10 minutes or so before you can access your bag, 10 minutes that could be spent dreaming about surviving plane crashes and blissfully drooling next to your seatmate). I find that I sleep much better when I think my awkward facial expression is not being watched by my well-meaning seatmate so I always wear a pretty scarf. That way you look adorable, but can also cover your face with it when you start to drift. Another thing that I do is travel with my tempurpedic pillow. This supports my back when I sit, un-tired, and reading, or when I sleep, crushed into the window. It elicits tons of unsolicited comments from fellow travelers, but it is worth it when you saw logs the whole way to your destination. 

Surviving the night 

Being the night owl that I am, (I feel so alive when I think the rest of the city I am in is sleeping, as though I have been charged with their guardianship, a role I take very seriously), I sleep later than most, which requires something more heavy duty than earplugs in certain hotels and most yurts. So I bring a noisemaker with me. This takes care of the construction sounds coming from the hotel room next to me, as well as, in a Pavlovian way, sending me to the dream realms milli-moments after I hit the on switch. Sometimes, when I hear it rumbling through my suitcase because it was mistakenly turned on in the bustle of travel, I feign sleepfulness and fall to the ground. This elicits laughter from my friends who know about the noisemaker, and abject concern from those who don’t. Something I have noticed about certain hotels is that the “Do Not Disturb” sign can seem incidental to certain staff members. Depending on the lack of sleep, I like to surprise the cleaning person who wanders in — past the sign asking them not to — by sitting up in bed (I sleep naked) and just staring at them. 

Home Sweet Anywhere 

I also find that the comforts of home, altars, and baths go a long way in maintaining a sense of calm as I travel, so I bring essential oils, candles, and yoga mats with me and set up makeshift altars everywhere, bringing a great sense of anchoring and ritual to my temporary digs. Ultimately, living the nomadic and itinerant life is not easy for a sensitive creature. A turning point for me was in realizing that I could make life as comfortable as possible in my travels, but that traveling is really much more about being in denial, decorating the transience well, and softening the rough edges of shift. I experience such outbreaths from consistency, so as much of it as I can create on the road I do. The rest, I luxuriate in when I return home. To those on the verge of travel, I send you deep rest, gentleness, and a sense of humor. Much love.