Why holidays make you crazy
Troubled Tourists! Graham here.
Recently Honor and I finally took a proper holiday. We met up with my family in Fiji (where my grandad comes from) for a do-nothing-but-laze-by-the-pool style break.
It was extremely relaxing. So of course, by day two, I was an anxious mess.
Is this just a me thing? Or do other people lose their shit when they have nothing they’re supposed to be doing?
Here’s how the five days went, and how I made it out the other side with something better than duty free to take home…
Day #1: Genuinely relaxed
We had a cabana by the sea. We had fancy cocktails. Enough said.
Day #2: Wait on, are you sure your life isn’t ruined?
It's just the seed of an idea at first. The smallest doubt. It doesn’t really matter what it is.
Maybe it’s ‘you’re fucked’. Maybe it’s ‘the world is fucked’. The point is, something big and out of your control becomes suddenly desperate and urgent in your brain.
Which makes it hard to enjoy that pina colada.
The tricky thing about having big feelings like these on holiday is… Not only are you away from your usual go to supports (or distractions), but even worse, in this idyllic setting those big feelings seem even harder to explain than they usually are.
Here I was, surrounded by my family, all of whom seemed to be having a pretty damn good time. So what did I do?
Holiday game-face people. This is what you've trained for. PROJECT AN AIR OF CALM RELAXATION, AT ALL COSTS!
Blank stare! Heavy heart! Shhhhh...
Day #3: Maybe there’s something I can do with all this nervous energy?
There’s nothing quite like finding the right thing to read, just when you’re really losing it.
Before we’d left Melbourne, I’d excitedly packed a book I'd found about Stoic philosophy.
I knew very little about Stoic philosophy, but what I did know intrigued me. Essentially, it’s kind of the Ancient Greek and Roman equivalent of Buddhism. It shares the basic position that we are all, essentially, fucked - but with slightly more emphasis on how we might use that uncomfortable truth as motivation.
While the rest of my family was paragliding and scuba diving, I thought, this book is what I will throw all this anxious, despairing energy into. This book will show me the way.
Still Day #3: The book sucks, but the Fates intervene
Now it turns out this book I’d brought with me was not, in fact, a very good book.
It was dry, overly academic, and did not seem at all to be written by someone who had the slightest idea what I was feeling.
But as if by intervention from the ancients themselves, Honor (in her infinite feelings-nerdery) had brought with her a *second* book on Stoic philosophy. One that was very good. One that I devoured in two days, carrying with me from meal to meal like my life depended on it.
Adding to the sense of fate, that book was written by a man named, wait for it... Holiday.
It was Ryan Holiday’s The Obstacle Is The Way.
I won’t get into the content of it here - that could fill multiple future posts - but in a nutshell: it’s the same argument you’ve heard many times before, but can’t possibly believe until you’re desperate enough to give it a go. That with the right encouragement, the horrible shit that happens to us can help us grow.
(Yes I recognise the irony of posting this so soon after writing this. But ain’t that the thing about big feelings? They don’t follow a neat narrative arc!)
Day #4: Reflecting on reflecting
I began to come out the other side of the shame spiral. Inspired by the book, I also began feverishly plotting life goals for when I got home (something I’d started doing a year ago, and then let slip.)
And I began to notice something else, that this process - of falling apart, and putting myself back together again - it has its uses.
Most people don’t have time to reflect on their lives and where they’re headed, until they take a break. Not everyone has to have a breakdown to do this. Not everyone has to turn their resort holiday into a last resort. But I’ll tell you what, it sure is effective.
As the (gorgeous) sun set on day four of my holiday, I still felt bruised from this latest existential swan dive. But I was also genuinely excited about the next steps I’d outlined for myself.
And in keeping with the theme of the book - ‘the obstacle is the way’ - I had this comforting thought. Yes, that shame spiral would return (it always does). But in some ways, that’s useful. Like a snoozed calendar alarm, it’ll help remind me to check if I’m still on the track I want to be on.
Or as someone once said to Honor, and she said to me:
Better to have many breakdowns over the course of your life, rather than one big one at 50. That way you can make many little course corrections as you move through life, rather than realise all at once you’re nowhere near where you want to be.
Day #5: Genuinely relaxed again (and tiiiiiired)
I don’t exactly feel refreshed the way I’d hoped. But there is some peace. Peace and purpose. Not a bad consolation prize for not being able to just take it easy.
Anxious holiday survival kit
For me the following are holiday must-haves:
A pen
A nice fresh notepad
At least one travel buddy who understands that this is how I do holidays (and can help remind me there’s nothing wrong with that). Someone you can show what’s happening behind the calm relaxation game-face.
A book that speaks directly to my particular brand of suffering, in the most inspiring way possible
Ok maybe more than one book. How you gonna know what brand of suffering you’ll have till you get there??
