Notes from the Road: The Night the Scots Reorganized Me
How a surprise KLM strike, a chaotic airport terminal, and two brilliant Scottish strangers reminded me what it actually means to co-regulate.
The House of Tulips inside Schiphol Airport—shining bright, right before the midnight travel chaos began
We are conditioned to believe that managing our stress is a solo project. We read the books, do the exercises, and try to force our nervous systems into submission. But true physical and mental regulation doesn't always happen in isolation—sometimes, your body simply needs to borrow the steadiness of a calm rhythm to remember how to drop its guard.
I didn’t expect my entire mood to be reorganized by two Scottish strangers in the Amsterdam airport at midnight.
Travel had already wrung me out.
A two‑hour delay. A surprise KLM strike. No beverages. No connecting flights until the next day.
By the time I reached the shuttle line for the hotel, a hundred people were ahead of me and my nervous system felt like it was running on static.
I was annoyed. Exhausted. Thirsty. Bracing.
And then I heard them.
Two Scottish men behind me, muttering and joking in that animated, musical way Scots do when they’re equally irritated and amused.
I don’t remember what they were saying, and my ear hadn’t yet tuned to their thick accents. But my frustration evaporated, and I found myself trying to decipher their rhythm instead of focusing on my own irritation.
They noticed. They picked up my bag.
“All right, come on,” one said, already wheeling my suitcase forward. “We’re taking a taxi.”
By the time we got into the taxi, one of them was rubbing his hands together in this playful, delighted way, asking me questions so they could plan my entire travel itinerary.
They travel constantly for work, so they treated my situation like a puzzle they were excited to solve. Their lightness was contagious.
The whole ride there I was giggling and smiling, unable to help myself.
When we arrived, they carried my bags straight to the front desk, and then—like good Scotsmen—they headed to the bar.
I was an entirely different person by the time I got to my hotel room.
Maybe that’s why the Scots hit me the way they did. I’ve had wonderful moments in America, but it simply doesn’t land the same.
There’s something about meeting people whose cultural rhythm is completely different from your own. The Scots have a buoyancy that feels built into their bones. Boston fell in love with them this summer, and I understand why.
Nothing about the situation was actually catastrophic. I did have a flight. I did have a free place to sleep. I’d be getting on an airplane in the morning.
But I’d fallen right into step with them.
I’d borrowed their regulation. Their humor. Their ease. Their way of metabolizing inconvenience. Their cultural buoyancy.
Sometimes the body needs an outside source like that.
In my sessions I see people arrive carrying the residue of their day. Their breath’s shallow. Their shoulders are tense. Their thoughts are scattered.
A lot of people haven’t been taught how to regulate themselves; they’re just trying to get through the hour. Sometimes the body needs another body.
There’s a moment when a student unconsciously syncs to the Pilates teacher. They borrow that steadiness before they can find their own.
Their breath slows. Their movement organizes. Their internal climate shifts.
They aren’t just learning a routine; they’re borrowing a nervous system.
You don’t always have to fix your own heavy weather; sometimes, you just need to catch someone else’s rhythm.
This piece was originally published in the Travilates Journal on Substack. View the original article thread here.
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About
Melissa Van is a Pilates teacher, retreat leader, and writer based between the US and Europe. After 20+ years teaching, she built travilates: 1:1 online Pilates coaching for women 45 and up, plus retreats that bring movement and travel together for women at any stage of life. She writes Notes from the Road, weekly reflections on staying steady in midlife, one city at a time.