Where Past and Present Meet: The Gift of Disney’s BoardWalk

Most think Walt Disney World is a nonstop whirlwind of thrilling activities. From rope-dropping the most popular attractions to securing the perfect spot for fireworks, the days are often planned to the minute.

Yet, I’ve discovered that some of the most magical moments don’t require a park ticket, running shoes, or an agenda. Sometimes, the magic can be found by stepping away from the rush and simply being present.

One of my favorite places to embrace this slower pace is Disney’s BoardWalk Resort.

I typically start the journey by taking the Skyliner from Pop Century Resort to Epcot. Instead of turning left when I exit the transportation gate and heading toward the World Showcase, I turn right.

I stroll through the International Gateway and across the bridge, leaving the crowds behind. The air feels lighter as I walk by the tranquil Crescent Lake. The moment I step off the bridge, it's as if I’ve entered another era—an Atlantic seaside resort town from the early 20th century.

The elegant white façade of The Cake Bake Shop greets me first, its sparkling windows beckoning guests to peek inside at the dazzling array of towering cakes and delicate pastries. While the prices caution me to save the indulgence for a special occasion, I can’t help but soak in the atmosphere—it makes me feel like royalty.

The BoardWalk has a way of inviting me to linger, savoring the moment and noticing the intricate details. No rush. No long lines. Just the sound of footsteps meandering across the wooden planks and the occasional laughter of families riding surrey bikes.

This is the magic of being present.

It’s a word I’ve reflected on often, a word with layers of meaning. Present is the here and now—not dwelling on the past, not worrying about the future, but simply embracing the moment.

As I continue my stroll along the BoardWalk, another beloved stop calls to me—the Blue Ribbon Corn Dog stand. I rarely pass by without ordering one. The first bite instantly transports me back to my childhood when Mom would occasionally treat us to a corndog lunch at the Sage Department Store. It was here that I not only developed my love of corn dogs but also my passion for reading. I’d save my allowance for weeks, then, once-a-month treat myself to a new Bobbsey Twins book -- the lavender spines always promising an engaging mystery.

Present is also a synonym for gift. And the BoardWalk itself is a gift—an invitation to step into a simpler time, a slower rhythm, and a more peaceful world. This resort is a present hidden in plain sight, waiting for anyone to take the time to unwrap it. While others race to the next thrill ride, I sit on a bench, eat an ice cream cone, and watch the people pass.

At night, the BoardWalk’s vintage lights flicker on, and the shops along the water’s edge transform into a nostalgic country fair. I browse through Thimbles and Threads, looking for the perfect souvenir. I admire the kids shooting hoops for a chance at a prize. The sight of the Crescent Inn’s rooftop always takes my breath away.

For me, the BoardWalk is a quiet reminder that joy is not reserved for only the grand and glorious. Sometimes, it’s in the ordinary, right in front of our eyes.

One final layer of this deeply meaningful word, is His Presence.

If I allow myself to pause and still my mind, I sense God is here. He is ever present -- in the breeze off the water, in the laughter of the children, in the quiet, simple pleasures of life.

So often, I chase after what I think will bring me joy—the next shiny new object or thrilling vacation that promises a more contented life. But the truth? Joy is already here, surrounding me wherever I am, waiting patiently to be noticed. The BoardWalk reminds me of this. It is a present—both a moment in time and a treasured gift.

And the beauty of this experience? It’s free.

You don’t need to be a guest at the resort. You don’t need a park ticket. This hidden treasure is available to anyone who takes the time to wander its paths, breathe in its nostalgia, and embrace the quiet magic it offers.

Sometimes, the greatest adventure is found in the everyday moments. The only thing required is to be present enough to receive it.

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The Courage to Choose Joy

My sister-in-law shared her secret to remaining calm in the midst of life’s circumstances. Each morning, she asks herself, Who’s in charge of my joy? And then she responds, I’m in charge of my joy.

It’s a simple question with a profound answer. So much in life is outside my control—uncertainties about the future, an aging body, and the endless cycle of exhausting news. But joy? That’s something I can choose.

And when I need a reminder of that choice, there’s one place that always helps -- Walt Disney World.

Flickr user: Gerard McGovern via Wikimedia Commons

The joy of Disney happens long before I step into the parks. As I exit the Florida Turnpike onto Western Way I notice the standard green highway signs give way to Disney’s signature red and purple. Like magic, the stress, noise, and endless cycle of bad news starts to fade. 

By the time I pass the Welcome to Walt Disney World arch, I feel my spirits lift completely. The heavy baggage of the “real world” is left behind, if only for a little while. I know it will be there waiting for me on the way home, but for now, I choose joy.

The sight of Cinderella Castle fills me with joy no matter how many times I’ve seen it. In that moment, I’m not thinking about the headlines, my to-do list, or the responsibilities waiting back home. I’m simply present. 

As I tour the Magic Kingdom, I begin to embrace childlike wonder, perhaps for the first time. I squeal on Big Thunder Mountain, fly above London on Peter Pan’s Flight, and take a turn on the carousel for nostalgic fun. In a world that often feels hard and cynical, reclaiming joy is a small act of defiance.

Epcot offers a more relaxed joy. The Italy pavilion is one my favorite places to slow down and savor the moment. I can sip a glass of Chianti or Limoncello in the square, while watching street performers entertain young and old alike. I admire the gondola poles along the water and reminisce about my trip to Venice. The Italians have long mastered the art of dolce far niente—the sweetness of doing nothing. At Epcot, I can embrace this simple joy.

But joy is a courageous choice even at the happiest place on earth. Long lines test my patience. The Florida heat can be relentless. Finding a shady bench feels like winning the lottery. Sometimes Disney can feel anything but magical. But joy isn’t about perfect circumstances—it’s about perspective. As in the real world, I can either allow these frustrations to steal my happiness, or I can take a deep breath and count my blessings.

Image by Sue Rickhuss from Pixabay

I'm prone to anxiety, and while I know worry does not add a single hour to life (Matthew 6:27) -- I continue to fret. However, after a trip to Disney I realize that joy is the perfect antidote.

As I pick up my baggage on the way home, it feels lighter—not because life has changed, but because I have. Choosing joy, even when the world feels heavy, is a quiet act of courage—one that helps me carry the weight a little differently.