leaving the old baggage behind

[from Bitter Ice © 1999 by Barbara Kent Lawrence, p335-336:]

One bright fall morning, just after I had moved from my house to the apartment over the office, I walked across the main street of the village over to the post office.  I picked up my mail, which included two letters from friends asking how I was doing, and I realized I was doing surprisingly well.  I felt richer than I had ever in my life, rich in friends and family, rich in loving and being loved.  And I looked up at the blue sky over the village street and I saw an image of myself in the clouds, borne aloft by people, each a brightly colored helium-filled balloon—purple, aqua, orange, blue, green, and yellow—to an endless horizon.
---I have been so fortunate.  Now I can look back and see that I dragged heavy bags around with me for most of my life, bags packed with old hurts and lies, with masks and uniforms, all the trappings I thought necessary to disguise myself.  I have been taking a long trip around my world as I thought I knew it.  Now I am coming home, home to a house I built myself to share with people who love me and whom I love, to fill with the things I have gathered on my journey.  ….  This time, as I come home, I will leave my old bags at the airport carousel to turn and turn until someone throws them away for me.  I am going to buy new clothes and pack a new bag with only the things I really want.  And I will travel lighter.

[This book, though painful for me to get through, was very much worth the reading.  The description "a memoir of love, food, and obsession" captures the essence of it.  Walk over to the bookstore (or library), pull if off the shelf, and dig into it (armed with a series of big cups of coffee).  Enjoy the world as best you can.]