Baggage

Twelve, perhaps thirteen years ago, when I was living in the Boston area, the radio station to which I awoke each morning suddenly changed their format. Instead of classic rock at 6am, there was now a talk radio show, hosted by two incredibly juvenile boy-men. 

That morning, I listened to their program while I readied myself for work, rolling my eyes and making very colorful editorial comments in the general direction of my clock radio. The thrust of that morning's show was that these guys were on the hunt for a 'hot chicks', who'd better not have any 'baggage', or they'd cut their losses and run like crazy. They spent an inordinate amount of time carrying on about baggage, and how no one they'd want to talk to would have (let alone admit to having) anything of the sort.

This was nothing new. I'd already heard this from any number of people I knew. I still hear people mindlessly invoke the embargo against emotional 'baggage' in anyone they'd choose to befriend or choose to romantically pursue. In my much younger years, I'd said as much myself, flippantly dismissing the possibility that the accumulated experience we shrug and call 'baggage' could have any real use to a person as they moved through life. 

The thing is, as I moved out of my twenties and into my thirties, as I accumulated a number of lessons from the school of hard knocks, I realized that I had been wrong, and that, yes, you do accumulate baggage in life, but it can be useful, rather than a burden, if you strive to understand what to hold onto and what to let go, and then hold on to only the amount of baggage that frees you to move purposefully through life, rather than that which only drags you down. 

I've traveled here and there throughout my life - sometimes for work, sometimes for pleasure, sometimes across a few states or across the country to live somewhere new, off to one state or another to spend a holiday or a wedding or a family reunion with those I care about. In all the times I've traveled, I've never traveled without some form of baggage. For each new trip, I've learned to assess what it is I will need to take with me, and what -- in order to lighten my load -- could be purchased on arrival or simply done without. My father, who traveled extensively for his job, told me more than once to pack lightly but to also pack efficiently, and to never check baggage if I could at all help it. I've taken that advice to heart over the years, and it's saved me a lot of time standing in lines, not to mention saving me unnecessary strain on my muscles and joints. Each time I travel, my prioritization of what I need for my journey is informed by all the travel experiences I've had up until that point, and I've become a very efficient packer indeed. 

And so it has been on this journey through life. At the beginning of my adult life, I simply didn't understand what to jettison and what to keep. And so I'd carry far more emotional baggage than was useful to me. It not only weighed me down, it made it near impossible to keep up with others who had learned to let go of what wasn't useful. It was a steep learning curve, but one I value. These days, as I continue along the path of my life, I periodically reassess which lessons or experiences I need to hold close, and which ones I can set down and leave behind me. I imagine holding up connections and disappointments and expectations and life lessons one by one, as though I were inspecting blouses and skirts to see if they are appropriate for the weather at my destination. Some I fold back into my 'baggage' and keep, as I know they will be useful. Some are too worn or too outdated, too heavy or too flimsy to be of use, and I set those experiences aside, grateful for the use they have been in the past, but acknowledging that they are not currently of use. As the years go along, my baggage has become lighter, yes, but also remarkably useful, helping me to navigate rough patches, and to accommodate new people and experiences into my life. 

I've yet to meet another person who travels through life without baggage, at least not after the age of 23 or so, but I've met people who travel more lightly or more heavily than I. And I've come to understand that the best thing is not to freak out about another person's emotional baggage, but to try to understand how they came by it and what lessons they've learned, who has made the best use of their inevitable baggage, and who understands how to mindfully prioritize which parts of their baggage will no longer be of use for the continued journey ahead. These are seasoned travelers among those I meet along the road, and I always have much to learn from them, even all these years later.