I have cleaned out my proverbial closet. I have tossed out the cartons of time and boxes of memories, having stored them out of nostalgia, alone.
I cannot change what was, only the way it affects me now. I can only hold onto so much before it weighs me down, preventing me from moving forward. I know that if you are going to fly, you are only allowed so much baggage.
Many of us carry each hurt, each loss, until it is so heavy upon us that we must eventually lay it down. Unable to let it go we store it away, but not in a treasure box, not as a keepsake. We store these woes, these injustices, in tattered dirty boxes, stained by tears.
We lug them through the years of our life, unsure what to do. We believe they define us, because they are in fact an integral part of who we are. They are part us, of our story, and so we carry on, carrying this heavy baggage along.
Even as we grow and learn, we cannot let go. We feel we must hold on, hoping that maybe it will change, fearing if we let go we may lose ourselves. We do not, cannot, get over these things, but we can get through them. So we do what we need to do to cope, to get by.
There comes a time, usually with age, when we realize we have had enough. We cannot do it anymore. The baggage is too much, too heavy. There is no more room for it, and we realize there is no need for it, either. It is not needed; it is not wanted.
Life has also taught you that much of it is really not your baggage, but in reality belongs to someone else. You never even owned some of this baggage.You took this baggage upon yourself, out of survival, not wanting confrontation, unsure what else to do with it. It was easier just to store it away with all of the pain.
Now it is time to sort through it, knowing that no one can do it for you. No one can know what is in the spaces of your heart, upon the shadowed shelves of your soul. Only you know what is really there, and what belongs there.
This sorting takes awhile, because it took a lifetime to store up, packing it neatly away. You know you have time to sort through it though, because it is important, and that you are worth this self-cleansing.
You aren’t doing it for others; you are doing it for yourself, because you are a survivor. As someone (I do not know who) once said, “Forgiveness is accepting that the past couldn’t have been any different.”
You realize that the future, your future, can be different. You want it to be. You’re ready.