Today, boys and girls, I want to talk about Baggage.
Not just any baggage mind you. No.
Not the type of baggage that holds clothes and toiletries and a box full of your great Aunt Marge’s doilies. No.
Today, I want to talk about Emotional Baggage. A special brand of hard shell, 360 degree spinning, expandable baggage that people lug with them pretty much everywhere they go.
Apparently there is a flaw in this baggage. The zipper and clasps are easily opened or broken and the contents spew out to cover anything close by and sometimes are projected onto passerby’s or innocent bystanders. Sometimes those contents are transported all the way over a sea and continent to clutter up the lives of loved one’s far-far away.
And sometimes this baggage doesn’t come in pretty, designer colors. No.
Mostly totally invisible, so that you never know exactly where it is or how much it contains. Tripping and falling is a common occurrence around these items. Major faux-pas have occurred because of them. Whole relationships have been destroyed over them.
And yet still, with the imminent danger and threat of these items, no one is willing to do anything to either lessen the load of each piece or to rid themselves of it at all.
Associated with emotional baggage are the places where they are dumped. These are usually a friend or family member with whom a person trusts and loves. It is with them that one will dump their emotional baggage off with for safe keeping, until such time as that person dumps the emotional baggage back in their lap.
I am such a person. I currently have the great pleasure to acknowledge that I am the keeper of not less than five pieces of emotional baggage. All of which I have stacked up next to my bed on a trolley so that when I wake in the morning, they can easily follow me about my day.
I however, do not intend on giving this emotional baggage back.
I have decided not to be that kind of person.
Instead, I’ve decided to unpack each piece. Evaluate the contents. Throw away the useless. Mend the useful. Polish everything. And then present them back to the original owners, squeaky clean, positively charged and ready for a new day.
I’m not yet sure what to do with are the emotional baggage husks that are left behind like residue in a bathtub. They clutter my mind and are very heavy to move. You would think it would be the content that made them heavy, but no. It’s almost like the implications of what they are, why they were handed to you, are the real reasons for their heaviness and girth.
They weigh heavily.
For now, I think I’ll put them down.
Later, when I’ve thought on it more, I’ll let you know the conclusion.
Side note: Perhaps the answer would be to never leave your emotional baggage with someone you love.