Stay.

As some of you know, it is extremely difficult for me to stay in the present moment. Planning ahead-scheduling-more planning is as satisfying to me as a piece of rich cheesecake or a hot bath. It's like scratching a terrible itch on your back you can't quite reach. I loveee it. Ever since I could write I discovered the wonders of to-do lists and wrote ones such as:

***Wake up

***Eat breakfast. Either pancakes if Dad will make them or maybe toast?

***brush teeth

***Narrow down my top choices of wedding dress design. Strapless or lacy short sleeves?

***Find Aaron Carter's agent/publicist's number so I can arrange a date with him?

As the years progressed, so did my compulsive planning, so you can imagine how ridiculous the To-Do lists I have accumulated in my journals are. And because the future equaled a beautifully vast and clean slate on which I could accomplish everything and anything, planning my life minute by minute became an excuse to escape the present moment and slip into control mode, where the future was mine. All mine. Well, last year, a good friend who noticed this absurdity recommended I read one of Thich Nhat Hanh's books, the wonderful buddhist monk, teacher, and poet. All you have to do is open one of his books and you are slammed with a wonderful slap of tranquility. I have his book called "You Are Here," and last semester at school, I wrote the phrase in huge blue paper letters on my wall to remind myself to, well, be there. It worked, kinda.

Anyway. I found something I like about traveling. When you leave your comfort zone to go to the uncomfortable, you are forced to be wherever you are, and only there, in that moment. Your brain simply doesn't have room to include your issues, whatever they may be. In the few days that I was traveling and trying to adjust to my new home, I forgot about facebook, gmail, perezhilton.com, tetris (well ok, maybe not on the plane). And although I may have been ripping off my cuticles to cope with anxiety, I was also extremely present, in a very focused, clear way. And there is something so nice about listening and hearing yourself, when all you have is yourself. It makes me sad, very, very, very, very sad, to think about how far away we are from ourselves these days with the Apple store taking over our lives. And I bet Thich gets sad thinking about it too :-(

Sorry for the cheese-ball post. On a more relevant note, here's my Dish of Danish for the night:

Behold. That right there is where the Danish Royal family resides. "Amalienborg Palace" its called, or Queen's Palace. The crazy thing about it is that I basically walked up to the steps, and was greeted by these charming toys I mean boys I mean guards:

Imagine if Obama lived in a nice apartment somewhere in DC and had Bo the portuguese water dog and maybe a doorman as his security? Well, the Danes would be down! They have trust down pat here. The Crown Prince of Denmark rolled up in a nice tinted Volvo and that was that. The toys marched over and watched him enter his home, and then marched back to their spot and made a little "YA!" noise, which apparently means someone royal came home. Trust, yes. You see carriages with the babies intact outside of stores while the Mom is inside, examining a nice blouse or buying a kop kaffe (say that out loud if you're having trouble figuring out what it is). Bikes aren't locked half the time. I like-y but it sho is different!