What Island Time Taught Me About Control, Stress, and Letting Go

Last week, I was lucky enough to head off on vacation.

Sun, warmth, ocean air. A complete shift from the pace and structure of everyday life.

And now, being back, I can honestly say… the adjustment is real. I’m still feeling it. 😉

Not just physically, but mentally. Because somewhere between departure gates, delayed buses, and slow-moving lines, I was reminded of something we don’t talk about enough.

Island time isn’t just a stereotype. It’s a completely different relationship with time itself.

Watching the Rush

One of my favourite parts of traveling wasn’t the beach or the weather. It was watching people interact with uncertainty.

The plane needed to be de-iced. Everyone shifted in their seats. Phones came out. Audible sighs. Anxiety building over something no one could control.

When we landed, both airplane doors opened. People immediately stood up, scanning, calculating.

Which door will get me off faster?
Which line will move quicker?
How do I get ahead?

Only to stand in the aisle… waiting.

Then baggage claim. People rushing to be first. To stand. To wait.

The bus was late. We were all stuck there. And you could feel it. The discomfort. The impatience. The tension of lost time.

Lost productivity. Lost efficiency. Lost control.

Or so we think.

The Islanders Were Different

What stood out most was the islanders themselves.

They didn’t seem fazed.

No visible frustration. No urgency. No constant checking of watches or phones. No resistance to what was happening.

They stood. They waited. They talked. They existed fully in the moment they were in, without trying to force the next one to arrive faster.

There was a quiet acceptance. A different rhythm.

And it made me realize how much of our stress doesn’t come from the delay itself.

It comes from our resistance to it.

Our Obsession With Optimization

In our Western culture, we are conditioned to optimize everything.

Our calendars. Our routines. Our productivity. Our outcomes.

We measure success by how efficiently we move, how quickly we respond, how much we accomplish in the smallest amount of time.

We fill gaps. We eliminate stillness. We equate motion with progress.

But standing there, watching people rush to be first in a line that wasn’t moving, I couldn’t help but ask myself:

What are we really gaining?

And what are we losing?

Because the islanders didn’t seem behind. They didn’t seem stressed. They didn’t seem like they were missing anything.

If anything, they seemed more present. More grounded. More at ease.

The Illusion of Control

So much of leadership and life can feel the same way.

We push. We force. We react. We try to stay ahead.

But not everything can be optimized. Not everything can be controlled.

Sometimes the plane needs to be de-iced.

Sometimes the bus is late.

Sometimes the timeline isn’t ours to dictate.

And maybe the real skill isn’t always moving faster.

Maybe it’s learning when to release the need to.

To trust.

To allow.

To be present where you are, instead of constantly trying to get to what’s next.

Returning Back, But Carrying It Forward

Coming back has been an adjustment. My calendar is full again. The pace has picked up. The expectations are back.

But something in me has shifted.

I’m noticing the moments where I feel the urge to rush. To control. To force.

And I’m reminding myself that not everything requires urgency.

Some things just require presence.

Maybe the islanders have something figured out.

And maybe, just maybe, there’s something in their approach worth bringing back with us.