Taking your nervous system on vacation
Travel Series Part 3: Navigating discomfort while traveling, 4 grounding questions to ask, and my favorite breathing exercises.

This is the final post in a 3-part series on travel. Don’t miss Part 1 (packing in a carry-on) and Part 2 (Italy travel guide).
We’re driving home from school and my son asks, out of the blue, if I’d rather have only food or water.
“I don’t really want to choose between those,” I reply.
He remains deep in a years-long phase of devouring informational books. Facts about space. Video game strategy guides. Anything titled “Did You Know?”
Weeks away from my first international trip in almost a decade, I’m apprehensive about not sleeping on the flight and not having proper meals for the first day of our trip.
“Well I know which one I'd choose,” he says. I ask him to tell me.
“I’d want water. You can survive seven days without food, but only three without water.”
“Interesting,” I say, filing this away for later.
I believe that travel, seeing new places, and getting out of our routine can inspire and benefit our work.
I also believe that if we’re a sensitive soul, experience anxiety, or are generally finding our way in the world after weathering an ongoing global pandemic, freedom of movement requires real preparation.
So far in this travel series we’ve talked about packing a carry-on, and I’ve shared my favorite restaurants and experiences from our trip to Italy. That’s all the fun, shiny stuff!
Here are a few things my photos couldn’t capture…
The affirmations I repeated in my head.
The time I spent tending to my nervous system and building capacity to thrive on a trip like this after years of chronic stress.
The frustration of waking up the morning of our departure with a text message from the airline saying our flight had been delayed.
Shoveling food into my mouth in a Paris terminal to keep anxiety at bay after sleeping a total of 1 hour and 30 minutes (not consecutively) on our overnight flight.
But you know what?
I survived that night of no sleep.
I was equipped to handle the surprises.
My heart swelled while watching the sun set over Rome.
My entire nervous system settled when I pushed my hands against an old Italian tree.
This is the power of nervous system healing. It doesn’t eliminate stress or anxiety, but it allows us to create safety wherever we are.
Crucially, it creates space for joy.
Anxiety likes to keep our world small because that’s what feels safe.
It likes to whisper, Let’s stay home. Or, I’m not sure this is a good idea.
Whether we’re flying to another country or taking a day trip to a new town, one of the ways to interrupt this unhelpful line of thinking is to go PREPARED. It means we can spend less time scanning the horizon for danger and more time enjoying the experience.
One of the things our brain really appreciates is knowing what to expect. We need novelty, but we also need ways to support ourselves when routines change.
This used to make me feel resentful, which isn’t the most compassionate response. Instead: Of course! Of course this is going to be both fun and tiring. Of course you’ll need a little extra rest when you get home. Of course.
But what does it mean to actually prepare?
The first step is acknowledging that travel can feel—emotionally and sometimes physically—like an athletic event.
I really like the approach that nervous system coach Alyssa Chang suggests, which is to plan for said event in three parts: before, during, and after.
This is useful advice for everything, really. Spending an afternoon at your kid’s soccer tournament? Yes. Co-worker off-site meeting… with group games? Yep. A holiday dinner with the family? 100%. And of course, vacation.
Before
Here are some of the ways I prepared BEFORE the trip.
—Practiced the language.
—Made a list. Like, a really detailed and extensive packing list. Absolutely everything that went into suitcase or backpack was accounted for, down to my mascara and number of socks.
—Researched restaurants and looked at food photos on Yelp.
—Perused travel blog posts.
—Read books by Italian authors or memoirs of living in Italy.
—Made sure I had ear plugs, essential oil roller balls, mineral and electrolyte packs for my water (sticks are great for travel), and snacks for my purse.
—Planned a capsule wardrobe.
—Watched YouTube videos touring destinations that were new to me. Even though I knew I’d be able to navigate the inside of a train station when I arrived, it was helpful for my brain to have already seen it. I found this especially useful in real-time when surrounded by crowds.
—Decided on 1-2 affirmations (“I am safe and supported” and “I’m doing it!”)
During
Here are some of the things that helped DURING.
A FEW WAYS TO BREATHE
—In 5, out 6
—Longer exhales with humming
—Box breathing (4x4)
A FEW BRAIN DRILLS
—Sternum taps
—Alternate leg taps (easy under a table at restaurants)
—Humming
—Rapid eye blinking (about 10-20 times with a soft gaze)
A FEW GROUNDING QUESTIONS
Where am I? I am here. (Repeat this and notice something new each time, like your feet on the floor, the feel of a shirt on your skin, etc.)
How am I being supported in this moment?
What if this is excitement? (Smile a little and play with this mentally.)
Am I actually unsafe or am I just uncomfortable?
This last question about safety is newer to my repertoire, but one I’ve found to be transformative. When my son asked if I’d rather have food or water, he didn’t know he provided a way for my brain to feel less anxious.
I knew the first day would be the hardest, especially when subsisting on half-eaten airplane meals and bags of pistachios. Oh, and not sleeping.
But remembering my body can literally survive an entire week without food? Suddenly the granola bars didn’t seem so bad.
Suddenly I felt like I would be OK.
Of course I'd be more comfortable eating high quality meals at regular intervals, but could I tolerate the alternative? Actually, yes.
After
Re-entry can be a mixed bag, especially if jet-lag is involved. Rest, stretch, breathe, repeat. That’s basically what I did for a week before re-establishing my regular routine.
A few ideas…
—If you’re able, build in a handful of buffer days before getting back to work.
—Scroll through your photos and create a “JOY” or “DELIGHT” folder. I do this throughout the year, not just when I travel, and it’s wonderful remind yourself of truly happy moments.
—Repeat “I did it!” to yourself as often as needed.
—Remember that contraction comes after expansion. Don’t be surprised if you end up in a bit of a mental dip or feel unstable following a trip. When our systems integrate new experiences and going to the edge of our comfort zone, it’s normal to end up feeling old, habitual anxieties pop up.
One of the most powerful things I’ve learned is what we often feel most afraid of—trusting in the goodness of the world, being in community, sharing physical space with others—is often the very balm to our anxiety.
Humans are wired for connection, yet being out of our comfort zone can feel depleting because the world is more threatening than it used to be. Our senses are up. Our nervous systems need extra support, even for activities that once felt “normal.” It’s not just walking into a store to buy a thing, or hopping on a plane to go somewhere.
It’s tending and resting and practicing and re-learning.
Eventually, it’s also peace and presence and vitality and joy.
Until next time,
Nicole
So helpful! Thanks, Nicole!
For those of us with energy-limiting chronic illnesses (like ME/CFS/Long Covid), these transitions and challenges occur even more regularly and strongly. Also true for the elderly, I’m noticing. Love your combination of normalizing and practical tips for each stage!
I really appreciate this post, Nicole. Since Covid, I’m having a hard time going anywhere outside my home, let alone travelling to a foreign country. Your post gives me hope.