I hit my 7:10am departure from home without a hitch, leaving plenty of time for the airport trip, the coffee thing, and the walk to my gate.
In my car for the 50-minute drive, my mind is clear. Audiobook on. Cruise control on. Enjoying the misty morning.
Then. I enter the airport property. I can feel my nervous system shift, my heart rate accelerate. I get to Economy Lot West to find that 70% of it is closed for repaving. Oof. I get a spot in the farthest reaches. Cool.
From the moment I step out of my car, I move into what I just realized is one of my least favorite personas that I’ve ever discovered in myself.
Meet Airport Sue.
I start what ends up being a 1.5 mile walk from car to gate at a basic run version of a walk. I’m analyzing the most efficient way to make the journey, finding the hypotenuse for speed. I do not pause on my walk. I do not breathe deeply. I do not notice anything or anyone extraneous.
Inside the airport, the stakes are even higher. It is seriously crowded in there. None of these people knows the drill, they all seem to be wandering around aimlessly. I pierce their idle coffee clatches on a mission.
Security. Denver boasts the only airport where Clear usually takes about two times longer than TSA PreCheck, but I take the risk. I offer the Clear employee a non-aggressive (but still) efficiency tip.
I’m headed down the long escalator to the train. I step close to the entry doors because there will be no one exiting the train on our side. Most people hang back about 15 feet. I judge them for being slackers.
Once at the terminal, I speed up to coffee and then gun it to my gate, even using the moving sidewalks, which I rarely do, because I am at the farthest United gate. I see the gate in sight, I’m moving like a laser.
Just as I’m about there, a woman is walking in the opposite direction, looking at her phone, and at the last moment of our chicken game (which she has no idea we were playing), she looks to the left to talk to two kids and moves right into me. I say “look up” as we collide. She says “I was just talking to my children.” I judge her. I think “that is no excuse.” I actually think that!
Finally, I reach my gate, victorious. I have 25 minutes before pre-boarding even begins.
I had plenty of time. This entire quasi-video-game-challenge-series had NOTHING to do with any risk of being late. It had only to do with the intensity and the urgency that are hallmarks of the “Airport Sue” persona.
I sit down at the gate, elbows on knees, head in hand. Ashamed. Whether out loud or in my mind, I have been a terror for the last 30 minutes. Inconsiderate. Disrespectful. Unkind.
I just finished reading therapist Terry Real’s extraordinary book “Us.” Whether you are in a couple or not, I can’t recommend this book enough. It has changed my life in countless ways, and today I found another one.
Terry invites readers to journal every day about moments when they “one up” (I’m better than) or “one down” (I’m worse than) ourselves in relation to other people. Airport Sue in pure persona is a horrific one-up machine. Terry asks us to gain awareness about this so that we see how disrespectful we can be to others (one up) or ourselves (one down). The notion is that living in that harsh disrespect is utterly counter to ease, partnership, and community.
The point of spotting and sitting with personas is not to be doing what I am doing right now, as I pen this from my exit row aisle seat (I am SO GOOD!), but to increase awareness of patterns that no longer serve us.
Airport Sue has never served others, but today I realize she also is no longer serving me. She’s giving me stress, pain, and disconnection from others. She is taking moments of potential kindness and turning them to stiff-armed efficiency.
Tears flow as I face how long Airport Sue has been with me, running the show in her domain.
And then I peel back a layer in my mind to realize that Airport Sue is not unique to airports; she is just an exacerbated example of how I can be in so many areas of my day. In fact, I see, a version of her shows up almost ANY time I am not just completely relaxed. Airport Sue is not just a persona, she’s an extreme response that has the feel of an addiction. She is a reaction to any situation in which I don’t feel in complete control. Airport Sue heretofore unconsciously swoops in to give me the illusion of control, and to box out anyone or any idea that might be perceived to be in the way. OUCH. It’s not that she doesn’t come in handy. She has her good side. But without my awareness of how persistent and irrational she is, I lose out and compromise my current values and happiness.
Now on the plane, just a moment after typing that last sentence, a young man in the row behind me asks the flight attendant if there is power in his seat. She says no, there is only power from row 21 (mine) forward (of course). I turn back and offer to charge the phone in my outlet as soon as we take off (Airport Sue knows and follows the rules, and she also blames other people when they don’t do the same). That’s what persona awareness can do, shift you from utter urgent independence to care and connection. The guy next to me smiles when he hears me offer.
That’s how I’d like to show up at the airports (and elsewhere) from now on.
QUESTION: Who is your version of Airport Sue? What is she trying to solve for you in your unconscious?
LAST CHANCE: Airport Sue is a place where I discovered that I am not aligned with my current values and priorities. The wonderful Grace Clayton, Leah Pearlman, and I (sometimes wonderful, as you just learned), are hosting a 3-day retreat “Alignment From the Inside Out” in May. We have a couple additional rooms at the Asheville farm for you. Want to join? Check out the deets and apply here.
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