Knives on a plane

working to stop outsourcing the fear

As usual, I went to the airport packing heat. Is it because I have a healthy distrust of authority? Or just a sly sense of humor? Is it because I'm an organized and prepared person and I like to carry certain things with me? Even in a different country or state, I move through the world in a certain way, one that has become a habit and one that I don’t want to change much.

Here’s how it goes every time at airport security, first there is the misdirection that shows up in the numerous tinctures I carry with me. As a herbalist, they are very much my toolkit so I'm prepared, all kinds of herbs for different environmental and emotional stressors. I have them in my first aid bag along with all the other necessities. The airport staff is generally very nice, they often just ignore them, plus they fit in with the regs, under a hundred ml of liquid. Either way, it usually takes them a while to poke through enough where I get to share a little banter, share pleasantries, enough for me to tell myself I’m not a complete arsehole for the deception.

They generally ignore the first aid scissors, the ones with blunt ends specially designed for cutting away clothes, in fact, they seem to apply a judicious logic that I appreciate, and so long as I pack all my potions and lotions in small 1 oz bottles I don’t have a problem, the same with art supplies and other sundries in my pencil case, the one I take with me everywhere that has all the little things that I need to live my life, a hard drive, swiss army corkscrew thing for wine, perfume, patchouli oil deodorant, hair ties, and lip balm, PayPal credit card swiper, pens, etc.

Heathrow is especially thorough, they have a little wand with sensors stuck to the end, like an old sponge and they wave it over the tincture bottles to make sure there is no contraband there. But the most problematic security risk and the real redirect is food. In fact, this is one of the things that I have donated several times to airports, liquids that are not obvious to me, jars of good honey, jams, Branston pickle, and the last time it was a can of Devon custard. I love buying nostalgic food - it's my favorite gift to friends, especially my son, getting food that you can’t really buy easily anywhere else and letting my loved ones really have a taste of my travels and often I forget that some solid-like types of food fall under the unfortunate category of lethal liquids.

This time, on my return from England just last week I had the custard in my suitcase along with gingersnaps and Jaffa cakes and honeycomb, The very nice security man and I looked curiously at the highlighted square on the X-ray. “ I think it's the honeycomb,” I said. “No it seems to be metal, “ says he, and there, as we dug around we unearthed the can of custard. “Oh no not the custard!” I jokingly teased as he confiscated this potentially lethal weapon. “My poor son!”, and we laughed as he set aside, for the safety of everyone on the plane, a real icon of English memory.

What I didn’t tell him, and what I haven’t told any of those lovely folks who diligently show up every day to do their jobs, is that once again they had missed the fact that I had an Opinel knife in my pencil case, a cheap but good quality fold down knife that has a really wicked 4” blade that is very good for slicing and eating apples as well as sticking someone in the spleen and messing up their day. Yet again, over the numerous airplanes, I have traveled on I could have created far more havoc than with the fucking custard, and they had missed it.

I think one of the reasons why I get a certain superior pleasure, a snide well look how stupid the system is and aren't I more clever is that inherently I am hiding in a defense. The not-so-cute “I have a healthy distrust of authority” is really me curled up in the nothing can touch me fetal defense because inherently I don’t feel safe. Really the circle around my face should just read I’m shit scared of the world right now.

This was emphasized when I had a disastrous conversation with a good friend the other night exactly along these lines, a conversation that currently is being played all over the country, talking this time, not about the deadly custard but rather the deadly virus. We immediately both got stuck in the “well my unsafe is more valid than your unsafe” and circled around the drain until we were well, drained. And somehow estranged despite the well-intentioned hugs of well that was uncomfortable but we’re still friends.

I felt stupid and ashamed. I know better - becoming belligerent, which we both managed to do, is another red flag, similar to being aloof, or superior. I know it's another defense that I like to hide behind when I feel threatened. And my friend was not the threat, she was actually just like me, stressed the fuck out on a low-grade wake-up in the morning to the news kinda way. And I have the skills to track this in myself and to know that both of us shared a deep point of connection, we both were distraught in how unsafe we feel.

However instead of steering the conversation to that bridge, that commonality, that meeting point of grace and grief we instead sat and argued in our differences about how we feel unsafe for different reasons and how somehow one person's reasons should be more meaningful than the other.

I am deeply concerned about my health sovereignty, the politicization of this crisis, and the censorship and fear-mongering propaganda. She tried to out fact me of my obvious delusional beliefs. She is, I assume, worried about infecting another person, becoming sick, experiencing the death of a loved one. I tried to tell her in several different ways that she was stupid to feel scared coz well the virus isn’t that deadly.

But honestly, I don’t actually know what her concerns are. We never even got there. We didn't manage to listen or acknowledge or be there for each other adequately. Instead of validating each other's fears we just kept on invalidating each other's feelings.

We completely blew the opportunity we had to hold each other in our fear. We just kept throwing facts that we both knew were skewed to our beliefs and that could go on ad infirm. We completely failed at supporting each other, the one thing we most needed.

I probably will stop carrying the knife on the plane. I know our system is broken and I am done getting pleasure from this fact. And I urge everyone, including myself to find the place of commonality with your loved ones and sit there for a moment. They are probably not the reason why you feel scared or threatened and they are probably going to be the best source of support and care. I can guarantee, it will, in the long run, be a lot less uncomfortable and far less alone.