From Checking ETA to Checking In with Myself

At times, I drive my son to his school, about an hour away from our home. (For the curious, we have a carpool, so on other days, other parents take turns.)

Over time, I’ve observed a couple of strange tendencies in myself during these drives.

The Anxiety of Monitoring Progress

We usually leave with enough buffer time to reach about 20 minutes before the school gates close. This ensures that, even if we encounter unexpected traffic, we still make it on time without unnecessary stress.

However, on days when traffic is particularly heavy and I expect to arrive just in time, I find myself constantly checking Google Maps, monitoring how the estimated arrival time (ETA) changes. If the ETA drops by a minute, I feel a sense of relief. If it increases, my heart rate picks up.

Logically, I know this behavior is futile. Checking the ETA doesn’t make me reach any faster. If anything, it distracts me and could even slow me down. And yet, the urge to keep checking is strong—almost irresistible.

Why do I do this?

Perhaps because it gives me a false sense of control in an uncertain situation. By watching those minutes tick up or down, I feel like I’m doing something, even when I’m powerless to change the traffic ahead. The anxiety creates this illusion that checking more frequently will somehow influence the outcome. But in reality, all it does is fill my journey with unnecessary stress.

This tendency isn’t limited to driving. It plays out in many aspects of life, especially in high-stakes situations. The more important a goal feels, the more we obsess over whether we will achieve it. The closer we are to missing it, the more we fixate on the possibility of failure.

Ironically, this fixation is not just unhelpful—it’s actively harmful. The time spent worrying about the outcome is time not spent focusing on the process. I see this all the time in GMAT preparation. When students have limited time left to reach their target score, they end up spending a significant portion of that time worrying about not reaching their target.

Does worrying help? No.

Does it harm? Absolutely.

And yet, people do it—often without realizing it.

Of course, this kind of worry is involuntary. But if students could clearly recognize that their obsession with the outcome is actually reducing their chances of achieving it, they might take deliberate steps to redirect their attention. The key is awareness.

The Manufactured Rush

There’s another tendency I’ve noticed. On days when traffic is light, we sometimes arrive 20–25 minutes before the gate closes. You might assume that on such days, I drive calmly, enjoy the journey, and appreciate the surroundings.

But no. That’s not what happens.

Instead, I find myself creating a new goal – to arrive earlier than I ever have before. I speed up unnecessarily, thinking about how I’ll impress other parents by mentioning my record arrival time.

So even with plenty of time, I rush. I miss the sky, the trees lining the road, the morning sunlight. I don’t fully engage with my son’s conversation. I’m hurrying toward an entirely self-created deadline.

Why? Perhaps there’s a restlessness within me that seeks expression. The rush creates its own reason to exist, even when external circumstances don’t demand it.

Breaking the Habit

Becoming aware of this pattern has changed my approach. Now I try not to chase self-imposed deadlines. I deliberately notice the scenery and engage more fully with my son. I drive at a reasonable pace and find more joy in the journey.

The rush within is still there. I just don’t cater to it anymore.

And maybe, over time, if I don’t entertain it long enough, it will cease to exist.

Not because I have conquered it or suppressed it, but because the rush has found its peace.