There’s a special kind of irony in writing about “staying calm” while wedged between suitcases on a train you weren’t even supposed to be on.
I’m currently on the Schiphol to Antwerp route — not because I flew anywhere glamorous, but because my original Almere–Antwerp train got cancelled. Add to that: a team event that turned into a late dinner (plus wine), a 6 AM meeting prep, and a pair of high-heeled boots that should be in a museum of poor decisions.
So here I am, laptop balanced on my knees, trying to remember what “zen” even feels like.
Turns out, this is exactly when you need it most.
1. Redefine “calm” as “not losing your cool in public”
Forget the image of peaceful airport yoga. Real calm is when you mutter “it’s fine, it’s fine” while sprinting across platforms — and somehow mean it.
You don’t need to be unbothered. You just need to stay slightly less dramatic than the situation deserves. That’s emotional savings right there.
2. Breathe like you’re rebooting Wi-Fi
Three deep breaths. Inhale for four, hold for two, exhale for six.
You can do it standing in a queue, sitting on a delayed train, or staring blankly at a departure board.
It’s not “woo-woo.” It’s biology. Slow breathing literally sends a “we’re safe” memo to your brain — even if your feet are filing HR complaints.
3. Anchor your senses (because your brain’s gone rogue)
Travel chaos hijacks your attention. You start spinning.
Try this:
- Notice 3 things you can see (bonus points if they’re not fellow commuters’ elbows).
- Notice 2 things you can hear.
- Notice 1 thing you can feel — maybe the weight of your bag or the seat under you.
That’s you reclaiming your body from panic autopilot. Instant reboot.
4. Don’t spiral-scroll
You know what won’t help? Doomscrolling delays.
Put the phone down for five minutes. Look out the window. Watch the blur of random Dutch cows. Let your brain idle.
Stillness isn’t about silence — it’s about giving your mind five minutes of nothing to process all the everything.
5. Reward the survival, not the perfection
You didn’t “fail” at being organized because your train vanished. You adapted. You’re here. You’re functional. That’s premium resilience.
When you finally get home — take off the boots, pour some tea (or wine), and celebrate the fact that you didn’t turn into airport rage footage.
Final thought
Calm isn’t a state. It’s a comeback skill.
Every delay, detour, or cancelled plan is just another rep for your zen muscle.
And next time travel karma strikes, you’ll sigh, adjust your bag, and think —
“Fine. I’ve trained for this.”
💬 What’s your version of “travel calm”? Do you breathe it out — or just silently curse and move on? Tell me your best (or worst) travel-zen trick below.
💻 About the Workation Diva
I’m Caro, an early pioneer of remote work, studying IT in the ’90s when “the Internet” still made dial-up noises. I’ve been blending work and travel since before it was fashionable, from spa weekends during business trips to half-vacations at my family’s place in Buenos Aires. These days, I live the part-time laptop lifestyle — balancing motherhood, projects, and plane tickets, proving that freedom can come in Wi-Fi and family-size portions.
Workation Diva 