Traveling every Monday can get to be trying. Too many infrequent flyers suffering from anxiety having recently been separated from their personal belongings (checked bags).

Once in a while though there’ll be someone or something that will just grab your focus – kinda like rubber necking on the highway.

Yesterday I saw a young woman in the airport. She was definitely a first time flyer. She was dressed in khaki shorts that would only stay up with a belt, an olive drab tank top with a matching bandana on her head. Being forced to remove her belt, she was struggling with her pants and the concept of walking through the metal detector. Her eyes were wide with fear and the TSA agents had no time for her they had a hundred people behind her to contest with.

With determination dominating the fear, she stepped boldly forward only to find out the machine beeped and now she would require a personal scan. Fear resumed control as she stepped back through the metal detector while she figured out if she could go through with her plans – whatever they were.

Repeatedly she asked for explanations of why she needed to be wanded. Why her belongings had to sit on the conveyor belt while she was isolated in a glass cage. The female TSA agent was kind but thorough.

This young woman clearly had a lot of things going on for her. Something drove her to stay the course and get through the TSA scan. Something motivated her to enter a new environment despite all of the judging looks that came her way. She had developed a plan and was sticking to it.

She asked plenty of questions from the people she thought were experts – even though they themselves could have been part of the source of fear.

I could learn a lesson from this young woman.

Once and a while I could get hung up wondering what other people would think or say. Can I take myself out of my comfort zone and experience things for myself so that I can make an informed decisions on what will work for me? Can I really ask a question without feeling stupid?

So far I have decided that as an author, I need to be who I say I am. This is the first step outside the box to becoming an author. For all that I meet – I am an author.

Discarding the old box is like shedding a skin – it happens slowly and over time. Stepping inside the new box means that I must change my circle of influence and associate with like minded people. Literary world here I come – I will be asking a lot of questions.

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