But a Little Strength Was Gained

We went to Los Cabos for vacation, and I needed to stay on track with my hand rehab. My therapist sent me with a little toolkit, and one piece was a small dumbbell. I packed it in my carry-on. Flew from Austin to Los Cabos with no issues. Did my therapy every day. Everything was fine. Until the return.

At security, the agent opened my bag, lifted the dumbbell, and said I couldn’t bring it on the plane. A tiny 3lb weight. I told him it made no sense. I had literally flown into Mexico with it a week ago on the same airline. I showed him my wrist, the scars, explained it was for therapy. Still no.

The supervisor came. I explained again and she finally said that if I had a doctor’s note, they would let me through.

"What do you mean if I have a doctor's note? So I can bring it? You just don't believe me that it's for my therapy? Are you serious?" I showed them my wrist again. Still no.

My options were to check the bag, leave it with someone, or throw it away. I told them to throw it away, turned around and kept walking towards the gate.

And I was angry. Truly angry. That old familiar flare I’ve written about so many times. Welling up inside me. The instinctive mind rising fast, wanting to confront, to correct the unfairness. I didn’t want food or water. I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to replay the scene and deliver better lines than the ones I had actually spoken.

For ten or fifteen minutes, I was inside that storm. Silently furious.

Then I remembered what the Yogis repeat again and again. That these reactions are not me. They are movements in the mind, like weather passing through an otherwise open sky. I can watch them without becoming them. So that’s what I did next.

I breathed slowly. I let the anger burn itself out. I reminded myself that the agents were doing their job as they understood it. I reminded myself that I didn’t lose anything essential. It was just an object. My peace was worth more.

And when the anger passed, I felt proud, relieved. I hadn’t been disrespectful. I had been firm, yes, but not rude. A small storm had come and I had let it move through me without acting from it.

This is the real practice. When everything goes smoothly, anyone can be serene. The training shows when something small but unfair hits you directly, and you still choose to not be slave to your emotions.

A dumbbell was lost. But a little strength was gained.