After 18 hours of flying, comprising a few hours layover in New York, all the while wearing our face masks, we arrived at our beautiful hotel in Savannah, Georgia. We met a stern-looking hotel receptionist. “Sorry. We have no bellboy service due to the COVID restrictions. So you’ll have to carry your own bags to your rooms,” she replied curtly to my enquiry about the whereabouts of their porters.

Almost everyone in Savannah, including most of the staff, was not wearing masks. So, where exactly were the COVID restrictions?

Jet lagged and fuming at the thought of carrying six bags up to the fifth floor (why six bags, you may ask. That would take a whole blog post on its own), I snapped at my wife. I screamed at my son to hurry up and help me with the bags.

A week later, I was waiting in a queue for an espresso at Starbucks Reserve Roastery, their high-end brand, marketed as having the best coffee in the states.

“Do you want it cold or hot,” the server asked.

What? How can an espresso be served cold?

Shaking my head. “Hot.”

The coffee arrived after seven minutes and it was neither cold nor hot but lukewarm. I took a sip, shook my head again and threw the cup in the trash can. I was incensed from the inside. I went outside and it was hot. Stifling hot. Now, I was raging from the outside too.

I walked towards Washington square, hoping to glimpse chess masters plying their trade. Unfortunately, there was no one to be seen. I continued my walk towards Union square and to the Strand bookstore. Books have always been a haven for me.

I arrived at the bookshop. With a mask on, faulty air-conditioning and my monkey-mind everywhere, I just couldn’t enjoy browsing all the books on offer. I walked out in despair and headed back to the hotel.

My irritable behavior, frustration and anger continued throughout our break. I won’t list every time I got angry or fretful. I felt everyone — from Uber drivers to waiters to receptionists — had a personal agenda against me. Well, that was what my monkey mind was telling me then.

A week later, I returned to the comforts of home. I questioned my behavior as always through my journaling. This was supposed to be a fun trip to celebrate my daughter’s graduation from university combined with a short holiday in New York City which was recently open after COVID.

Why did it turn out to be a personal nightmare for me? Why had all my old demons come back to haunt me?

My impulsive reactions were quicker than my reasoning mind. Perhaps, my family didn’t feel the gravity of my inner turmoil as I’ve become rather skilled at hiding my feelings. Or maybe they were too scared to say anything.

I know most people (like me rereading this) might dwell on the triviality of my angst. However, come to think of it, my problems during the trip were carrying bags up to a room, getting served bad coffee or sweating during the day. Then again, as we all know, the turmoil in our heads is not because of the actual event but instead how we respond to events, no matter how huge or trivial they are.

That’s why my acting out troubled me deeply after all the work I had done. I felt I had not only let myself down but my family too.

I’m always anxious before any travel. Nevertheless, when you combine the additional requirements needed post-COVID, the added responsibility for the family, leaving work at a sensitive time with many worries on my mind, you can start to see that I wasn’t at my best.

The truth is that there was nothing wrong with Savannah, or New York or the heat or anyone there (though I’m not sure about American coffee). I’d lost my internal control. I saw the animal in me come out but couldn’t do anything about it.

I knew that many people were stuck in their homes and couldn’t go on a holiday. I also knew that many more people couldn’t see their children graduate in the flesh but on zoom.

I acted like a big baby. My issues were not only privileged. There also were hints of inner entitlement I thought I’d left behind in my teens. I wasn’t in control of my reactions. My amygdala had been hijacked. I was stuck in fight/flight/freeze mode, where fighting became my default setting.

Yes, I had managed to control my outer reactions quite reasonably but it was my inner madness that needed more reflection and explanation.

So why then?

1.  Letting Go

“By letting it go, it all gets done. The world is won by those who let it go. But when you try and try, the world is beyond the winning.” ~ Lao Tzu

Living fearlessly and authentically is about letting go and allowing life to lead us through. Letting go does not mean being lazy and settling for mediocre results. Instead, it means we give our best in whatever we pursue but don’t get attached to the results of our efforts.

We forsake the concept of perfection, as it doesn’t exist, become vulnerable, put ourselves out there, and trust that the universe will support our intentions.

2.  Embracing Uncertainty

“The quality of your life is in direct proportion to the amount of uncertainty you can comfortably deal with.” ~ Tony Robbins.

Fear of uncertainty strikes deep into our psyche. Probably, the biggest thief of happiness out there today is the weight of wanting things to happen in a certain way. We try to impose certainty on everything we do, and with that come many expectations.

These expectations paralyze us. They don’t allow us to be present or fully alive. We get stuck in regret about the past and fear about the future. Instead of fixating on certainty, we must embrace uncertainty.

When I travelled with my family, I put on added pressure and responsibility on myself. When my son got bored, I quickly felt as if I had let him down. And when my daughter was anxious for her graduation ceremony and party afterwards, I got even more worried.

I wanted everything to be perfect for them during our holiday. So I got myself into ‘total control’ mode, and everything had to be certain.

I didn’t trust anyone or anything. Every minor incident that didn’t go according to my plan became a personal affront. Even the silliest issues like queuing up or being served bad coffee, metamorphosed into huge fight/flight/freeze events in my mind telling me I needed to react.

And what made everything worse was I’d quickly regret my outbursts and the shame of feeling like an imposter. I was supposed to have overcome my anxiety and frustration after years of working on myself.

Most things never go to plan, and that’s okay.

I’m on a path to becoming a better person. I am not the finished article yet. I must keep reminding myself of that fact.

My best moments from the trip were when we did things without planning, thinking, and no control. Like the day, we had nothing planned, and I let go for a few hours allowing my son to plan a boating trip on Tybee Island in Savannah.

Anger, frustration and anxiety are usually telling us something about ourselves. No matter how hard we try to control anxiety, it will still show up unannounced, ready to paralyse us. We can’t stop it, but we can manage it.

Each person’s anxiety is unique and, as such, we must each find our way of managing it. I believe we should all use our anxiety to question our psychology rather than accepting it as the end result.

Let’s embrace our anxiety as a trigger—a tool to dig deep into our psyche and address the cause of our emotional pain.