On Heaviness

Some people are lighter than others. Light in energy. Light in spirit. Light in life. They’re positive. Easy. Careless. They don’t know heaviness. They don’t get too serious. And details are unimportant.

You’re not one of them.

You wrap yourself in heaviness every chance you get. You love to toil. Love the weight of it all. The weight of the pack; the measurable ounces of sweat, blood, and tears. You wear your painful memories like armor and bristle at people when they catch you at a low moment. Can’t they see? You’re busy doing something important! Like driving a boulder uphill. That boulder! It catches on a pebble; the details are cumbersome–arresting–and so damn important.

Heavy and hard in low gear. How you like it.

But heaviness weighs on the soul, and you have to wonder if she will lose her elasticity. Your poor soul. Sherpa of your life.

You’re the first to admit you’re a control freak. Think it’s brave to travel? Think you’re special? Your not. You’re just another footprint. A well-placed, calculated footprint from a heavy-traction boot; it’s from all the baggage you carry like a badge of honor. You feel alive because you know how to suffer. Wouldn’t it be better live knowing how to float?

The best you can do is change your location.

Listen up! You don’t need to travel to live. Life travels to you. You can suffer, work, toil, prevail, smile, dance, sing, sob, sigh–without leaving your doorstep. You can fall in and out of love, the greatest voyage of all. What else can lift a person so, so incredibly, infinitely high? And then drop them–let them free fall so that their stomach lurches into their throat and crash! Obliterated. Nothing but the debris of their superpower feelings.

The people in your life have stories. They’ve been places. They’ve worked jobs. They’ve had children. They’ve succeeded and failed. They’ve accumulated more travel in their long, rich, brilliant lives than any twenty-something can boast. So what’s the point?

ANGUS: thinking about my 47 years of living and about the considerable travelling that I have done, it seems to me that’s the travelling is simply an accelerated version of what we are all doing. Its always about the people and the connections, while travelling one tends to say goodbye in a more real and honest way but the sedentary life is full of connections made and connections drifted from. If the currency is people and their goodness, life will always be full of good times, good people and fond farewells.

It doesn’t matter where you are. It is not you who travels the world. The world travels through you. Imagination. Fun. Idealism. Deep loves. Heartbreak. Deep regrets. Fear. Courage. Passion. Age. Injury. Illness.

And you can barricade the doors if you like. Maybe the world will come batter-ramming through–bash you–teach something the hard way; but more often than not, life just seeps its way in. Rots you. And then you find out too late.

So remember to breathe. Remember to listen. Prepare to learn when life comes knocking.

You think you’re ready.

Yes. It’s time. Float like a balloon with a snipped string. Up and away, without direction. And you will float back down to the ground on your own terms. Land wherever. 


Time to float.

Time to float.

*     *     *

You hang onto too much. It’s time to unload.

First, the basics: leave your bag, your stuff, your gear, your irrelevant things.

Give it up.

Give it up.

Then the emotions: the pain, the fear, the anxiety, the need.

Let it go.

Let it go.

Then yourself: your identity, your image, your ego. Leave it all and float.

Categories: Random Musings | Tags: , , , , | 5 Comments

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5 thoughts on “On Heaviness

  1. C L Smith

    I love this post. It makes me think about a lot of things. Thank you for sharing 🙂

  2. mamaCindy

    So – curious as to what brought this on? Hope it’s all good. xoxo

  3. pauldtye

    Yeah!!! I’m jazzed you just keep going. Cheers.

  4. Pingback: Katie, Sweet Katie: Parting Ways & Why Maria Goes To India Alone | Life Of Travel - A Memoir

  5. Pingback: The Three-Year Journey To India | Life Of Travel - A Memoir

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