Let's Take a Day Trip

NEW YORK CITY — I asked Gemini if taking a solo trip could be considered “self-care.” Its response surprised me.

“A solo one-day trip — often called a ‘daycation’ or a solo retreat — can be an extraordinarily potent form of self-care,” it told me, explaining that getting away from our normal routines can give the brain an opportunity to reset.

I actually agree with that sentiment.

I work full-time and am a single father of a teenage son, and that right there can feel like a full-time job within itself. Add responsibilities, deadlines, bills, and the everyday stresses of life, and sometimes I just need an opportunity to get away from it all and enjoy some time to myself.

On Saturday, I got the chance to do exactly that.

I flew to Newark, New Jersey, after work on Friday evening using Air Canada Aeroplan miles for my round-trip flight. I stayed at the Hyatt House in Jersey City, just steps away from the PATH station at Exchange Place.

There was no complicated itinerary and no pressure to see everything.

The plan was simple: have breakfast overlooking Manhattan, do a little shopping at Macy’s flagship store in Herald Square, catch a New York Mets game, and spend the rest of the day soaking up the city.

Saturday morning started at Lokal Eatery & Bar along the Jersey City waterfront. Sitting outside with pancakes, eggs, bacon, and sausage while looking across the Hudson River at the Manhattan skyline was probably the first moment when I realized how much I needed the trip.

There was nowhere I needed to rush off to. Nobody needed anything from me. There wasn’t a deadline waiting.

For a little while, it was just breakfast, sunshine, and one of the most recognizable skylines in the world.

And that was enough.

After breakfast, I walked over to Exchange Place and caught the PATH train into Manhattan before connecting to the R train. I got off near Herald Square and spent some time inside Macy’s doing a little day shopping.

From there, I walked toward Times Square.

Normally, when traveling, I am thinking about the next stop: Where am I going? What time do I need to be there? Am I getting everything accomplished?

This time felt different.

I wasn’t trying to conquer New York City. I was just enjoying being in New York City.

I could walk. Look around. People-watch. Hear the traffic. Take pictures. Stop when I wanted to stop and move when I wanted to move.

Eventually, it was time for baseball.

I headed underground at Times Square-42nd Street and caught the 7 train toward Queens. As the train filled with people wearing Mets jerseys and hats, the day’s energy began to change. My quiet morning had turned into the unmistakable excitement of a New York baseball Saturday.

I’d been to a Mets game before, so Citi Field itself wasn’t new to me. But this visit felt different.

Maybe it was because this wasn’t a quick, same-day trip. Maybe it was because I wasn’t worried about sticking to a packed itinerary or making sure someone else was having a good time. Whatever the reason, I found myself paying more attention to the people, conversations, and little details around me.

I sat next to a man who was around 59 years old and attending the game with his parents. He was a lifelong New Yorker who now lives on Long Island, and during the game, we started talking.

He told me about what it was like growing up as a Mets fan. Then came the Jets.

If you know anything about New York sports, you can probably imagine how that part of the conversation went.

But what struck me wasn’t really the baseball or football discussion. It was how natural the interaction felt.

Here I was, a visitor spending a day alone in New York, sitting beside a man I’d never met while he attended a baseball game with his parents. For a few innings, it felt like I had been invited into a tiny piece of somebody else’s New York tradition.

And there was something especially touching about seeing a grown man enjoying a Saturday afternoon at the ballpark with his mom and dad. It was a reminder that some of life’s simplest experiences — going to a baseball game, talking with strangers, or spending time with the people you love — can end up meaning the most.

Around us were the unmistakable New York accents. Vendors moved through the stadium. The smells of hot dogs and popcorn drifted through the stands. Fans debated plays, cheered, complained, and talked to one another.

I’d been to Citi Field before, but on this particular Saturday, I experienced it differently.

It wasn’t the New York you see in a commercial or travel advertisement. It felt like authentic New York — regular people enjoying baseball on a Saturday afternoon.

And the entire experience felt incredibly welcoming and wholesome.

That’s when I started thinking about what self-care actually means.

Sometimes we associate self-care with massages, spas, pedicures, or sitting around doing absolutely nothing. And those things certainly count. In fact, I had planned to get a pedicure during this trip, but couldn’t decide where to go. Maybe I’ll save that for Montréal in a couple of weeks.

But I’m learning that self-care can be much broader than that.

Sometimes, self-care is temporarily removing yourself from the environment where all of your responsibilities live.

It’s eating pancakes while looking at Manhattan.

It’s wandering through Macy’s with nobody asking when you’re ready to leave.

It’s walking through crowded Manhattan streets and realizing you don’t have anywhere else you’re supposed to be.

It’s riding the 7 train to Queens with baseball fans.

It’s sitting beside a complete stranger at Citi Field and hearing stories about a lifetime of being a Mets and Jets fan.

It’s allowing yourself to simply exist for a day without feeling guilty about not accomplishing something.

By the time I left Citi Field and eventually headed back toward Jersey City to spend the night at my hotel, none of the responsibilities waiting for me had magically disappeared. I still had work. I still had bills. I was still a father. Life was still going to be there when I landed back in Chicago.

But something had changed.

I felt lighter.

The trip reminded me that taking care of myself doesn’t require running away from my responsibilities. Sometimes, taking care of myself is what allows me to return to those responsibilities with a clearer mind and a little more energy.

There is also something empowering about traveling alone. You learn that you can navigate an unfamiliar transit system, eat at a restaurant by yourself, attend a baseball game surrounded by strangers, and spend an entire day being comfortable with your own company.

For me, that Saturday wasn’t about escaping my life.

It was about stepping outside of it long enough to appreciate it again.

Sometimes the soul doesn’t need anything elaborate.

Sometimes it just needs breakfast by the water, a little shopping, a subway ride, and nine innings of baseball in New York City.