By John Williams
My wife and I are high-octane people. Driven. Focused. Results-oriented. We live and thrive in a world where systems matter, order wins, and there’s always a plan—preferably with contingencies. We believe that if you work hard, show up prepared, and think clearly, you can navigate just about anything.
But life has a funny way of humbling even the most systematic of minds.
This week, after a long day of travel that started with a 3 p.m. departure, our final leg home was cancelled—at 3:00 in the morning. We’d already endured a twelve-hour spiral of delays and uncertainty, only to be left at the gate with no flight, no rental cars, no hotel rooms, and no answers. It was the kind of night that tests your patience, your character, and maybe even your marriage.
I responded the way I know best: I went looking for the person in charge. Someone who knew the inner workings of the system—someone who could explain what was happening and tell us the best next step. There had to be a playbook, I thought. Someone had to be holding it.
My wife responded in the way she knows best. She turned to the gate agent and, with tears in her eyes, pled our case. We were tired, stranded, and already past the limits of exhaustion. Surely, someone would help.
But neither of us got what we were after. There was no manual. No map. No authority figure who could wave a wand and fix the mess. No magic empathy switch behind the counter. There was only the fluorescent glow of the airport terminal and the quiet, collective resignation of fellow travelers slumped in vinyl chairs and curled up on cold floors.
It was in that moment—when neither reason nor emotion moved the needle—that a deeper truth settled in:
Sometimes, there is no “right” move—only the next faithful one.
Our world teaches us to take charge. Control your outcomes. Shape your destiny. Outwork, out-plan, outmaneuver. But every now and then, life strips away the illusion of control and asks you to do something far more difficult: surrender.
Not surrender in the passive sense, but surrender in the spiritual sense—the kind that says, “I don’t know what to do, but I will choose peace anyway.” The kind that lets go of the need to fix it and simply chooses to endure it—with grace, with humility, and, hopefully, with love.
So, instead of making a bed on the floor, we made our way toward the baggage claim area. There, we were informed that we wouldn’t even be able to request our bags until 7 a.m. But instead of wallowing or losing it, we kept moving. We stayed present. Eventually, we found a Delta booking agent—one final thread of hope—who was able to get us on an 8:05 a.m. flight home.
No miracle, no shortcuts. Just steady steps forward.
Don’t Wallow—Walk
Here’s the thing: chaos doesn’t need your permission to show up. But how you respond—that’s entirely in your hands.
When everything feels out of control, the worst thing you can do is freeze in fear or spiral emotionally. That’s when your brain short-circuits into survival mode. It’s called an emotional hijack, and it shuts down your rational thinking.
In those moments, don’t wallow in the problem. Don’t replay what went wrong. Keep moving. Keep thinking. Keep looking for the next available handrail.
One step. Then another. Keep walking until the way becomes clear.
Performing Under Pressure: Tools for the Exhausted Soul
When you’re tired, everything feels heavier. Emotions flare. Logic gets cloudy. The temptation to react—to snap, to break down, to give up—is intense. That’s why resilience isn’t just a mindset; it’s a practiced skill set.
Here are five tangible tools to help you perform under pressure—especially when you’re mentally, emotionally, or physically depleted:
1. Name What’s Happening
When the world is spinning, take a moment to name it out loud:
“I’m exhausted. I feel helpless. This isn’t going how I planned.”
Naming your experience doesn’t fix it, but it grounds you. It tells your brain that you’re aware and present—and not being hijacked by panic.
2. Lower the Bar to the Next Right Step
Instead of trying to fix everything, ask:
“What’s the next right thing I can do?”
Maybe it’s charging your phone. Maybe it’s finding a quieter place. Maybe it’s taking a breath before responding to someone who’s just as frustrated. Clarity lives in the next step—not ten steps ahead.
3. Breathe Before You Speak
Your breath is your remote control. Under pressure, your body’s fight-or-flight system takes over unless you reset it. Try this:
- Box Breathing: Inhale for 4 seconds → Hold for 4 → Exhale for 4 → Hold for 4. Repeat three rounds.
This regulates your nervous system and buys you the space to respond rather than react.
4. Choose Presence Over Perfection
You don’t need the perfect answer. You need to stay—mentally and emotionally. Instead of obsessing over solving the whole situation, look your spouse in the eye, put a hand on their shoulder, and say:
“We’re in this together.”
Sometimes that’s the most powerful thing you can offer.
5. Reflect, Don’t Regret
After the chaos has passed, take time to reflect:
- What did I learn about myself?
- Where did I show up well?
- What will I do differently next time?
Resilience is built not just in the moment—but in the post-game reflection.
A Call to Grow Through the Pressure
That night in the airport didn’t give us answers. But it gave us something more valuable: a lesson in humility, in love, and in the beauty of choosing connection over control.
As much as we want systems that work, life will always present us with glitches—cancelled flights, broken expectations, disappointments we couldn’t predict. The question isn’t whether we’ll face them. It’s how we’ll face them.
When control isn’t an option, surrender is your strength.
When answers aren’t available, presence is your power.
And when you’re exhausted beyond belief, your next breath—not your next solution—might be the most important thing you offer.
Let’s be the kind of people who don’t just survive those 3 a.m. moments, but grow through them—becoming steadier, stronger, and more gracious every time life throws us into the unknown.
P.s. It’s almost 6:30am and I’m hoping we board in about an hour.