A reflection on slowing down early enough to enjoy where we are going when we finally arrive.
by Michael “Maj” Allen

Having travel as part of my profession comes with many perks. One of my favorite activities as an introverted journeyman is people-watching at airports.

You learn so much about human behavior there — from the diagonal walker to the person who never seems to have their stuff together at TSA.

But I’m not one to judge.

Although I think I just did.

One consistent observation is the family arriving at the airport in full Tasmanian Devil mode.

“Did you remember to pack the kids’ meds?”

“Yes, I did. I said I did three hours ago.”

“Did you document our parking section?”

“Are you serious? You saw me take a photo as soon as we got on the shuttle. Honey, relax!”

I just sit back and smile, enjoying my peace, my tall soy one-pump mocha latte, and banana nut bread. It feels like I’m literally watching that airport scene from Home Alone!

During a season of attempted career blitzing, a friend recommended a book titled, The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry: How to Stay Emotionally Healthy and Spiritually Alive in the Chaos of the Modern World by John Mark Comer.

That book contributed to a small but much needed trejectory change in my life. The book inspired a new tradition for Lisa and I.  Specifically in preparation for vacation travel.

It goes a little something like this.  Around two weeks before departing for any trip, we slowly begin living out of our suitcases. Our toiletries, footwear, laptop bags, and other personal belongings live in or near the luggage racks in our bedroom until it’s time to depart for vacation.

One benefit is that it’s a great way to have a visual of an actual clutter-free sink area in the bathroom.

Lisa owns a live events merchandise vending company, so she is an OG when it comes to road life. But this new process of a sort of “rehearsal vacation” has helped us identify our travel needs before heading out the door. It also helps us avoid having to purchase a duplicate of something simply because it was left at home.

The idea is to somewhat be on vacation before we’re actually on vacation. That way, our process becomes more of a transition — a soft landing instead of a crash landing.

I think about how much stress most of us experience in rush mode on the way to our destination. Then, it takes two whole days just to decompress from the chaos of travel. After that, we finally start the actual vacation. Then, as soon as we’re in a relaxed groove, it’s time to go home.

But what if day one of vacation could actually feel like day one of vacation?

What if we could eliminate the rush, and avoid the chaos?

We’ve implemented this practice in other areas of life — to eliminate the hurry and decrease the chaos.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m no expert at this.

There are still times when I’ve had to lean on grace when it comes to the speed limit because I was the one who decided to do one more song edit before it was time to leave for a function.

But I can say this practice has done wonders for helping us rethink the way we arrive.

So as this travel season unfolds, maybe the invitation is not only to get away, but to arrive well. Pack early where possible.  Slow the pace before the calendar starts shouting. Give your mind and body permission to catch up with your plans.

Have a good time. Be present with the people in front of you. Let the emails wait.  Take the long walk. Laugh at the airport stories.  Rest without apologizing for it. The destination matters, but so does the condition of the soul when it gets there.

May we all learn to eliminate enough hurry that we arrive in peace instead of in pieces.