The Freedom in Unpacking

We've been talking about baggage recently. Not the kind of baggage you can see but the kind that is felt. It can be, and it is, felt in everyday interactions with other people or in how a situation is handled and approached.  And we have this unspoken, maybe even unacknowledged, expectation for other people to carry our baggage for us. We press them into service as a personal sherpa. And that's not anyone's job in life - to be the personal sherpa for another's emotional baggage.

Galatians 6:2 talks about carrying the burdens of life for one another. And I hate to break it to *you* but carrying doesn't mean what you might want it to mean. It doesn't mean that we enslave another person to carry our stuff. It actually means that we come alongside someone, help them shoulder the burden in ways that help to lighten, heal, and sort it out. It doesn't mean that we assume responsibility for someone's baggage. It does mean that we can help them unpack it.

Packing is a lot different, at least for me, than unpacking. When I pack for a trip I fold things, roll things, consolidate as much as possible. If someone opened my bag to search it they would find a rather organized pack job. But coming home? That's a whole different story. Forget folding, rolling, and even consolidating. I shove it all in, haphazardly, and hope the bag doesn't pop open or get searched. It's a mess. Our baggage, the felt not the seen, is a lot like the coming home packing. We've taken hurts, anger, and other things and shoved them in without paying much attention to them.  As a result our baggage is close to bursting.

Have you ever had your luggage explode open on you? What a mess. What an embarrassment (hello undies)! What an inconvenience. Have you ever exploded? It's messy right? It can be embarrassing, if not right away then later on. And it can be very inconvenient depending on who is around when the explosion happens (job loss, relationship loss, etc). Instead of walking around wondering when my baggage is going to explode I prefer unpacking it as quickly as possible. It's true, I could repack it for the trip home in a more organized way - that's always the plan. But usually I get to that moment and I just don't want to think about that item any longer, I just want to pack it away. Cue the haphazard pack job.

Galatians 6:2, between the lines, means helping one another to unpack. That is what carry means in that particular scripture. But unpacking is a little weird right? I mean you've got your dirty undies and your stinky socks. I know I don't want anyone having to see, handle, or deal with those - I don't even want to myself! That's why we usually try to unpack our baggage alone. But sometimes we can't. We just can't. It's too messy, too hard, too hurtful, too much. Sometimes, actually I would argue all of the time, we need help unpacking our "felt" baggage. But it can't be just anyone. It has to be "the right one."

Ecclesiastes talks about seasons in chapter 3.  And just like there is a season for everything we experience in life there are also people for different times of our lives. I've had people be the "right one" for certain seasons and then suddenly they no longer are. God knows our needs and he knows what kind of people we need for each season and for each piece of baggage that needs to be unpacked. So the "right person" may be just right for popping open the bag for us. Or maybe they are going to help us sort the mess inside. Or, and this is the biggie, maybe they are going to help us handle the dirty and stinky and get it cleaned up.

And not every piece of baggage we carry is the same. Just like literal baggage comes in a variety of sizes, materials, and functions so does our "felt" baggage. Some of our emotional baggage is small and compact, easily unpacked and forgotten. But some of our emotional baggage is like what I call one piece of baggage I have. I call this suitcase the "Mack Daddy." This piece is HUGE. It was a gift from a dear couple and it weighs - empty - something like 12 pounds. It is massive. And while Mack Daddy is great for packing a lot of stuff, it is cumbersome. It's large (understatement). It can become that piece of luggage that everyone avoids. (Thank goodness for its wheels!) Sometimes our emotional baggage resembles Mack Daddy - cumbersome and the piece that everyone avoids. Sometimes we have a piece of emotional baggage that is so stuffed full it exceeds weight limits (of the heart and mind that is). So as varied as our "felt" baggage is so will be the variety of "right people" in our lives to help us unpack.

And the flip side is true. We will be someone's "right person" to help them unpack and our role won't always be the same - it will depend on the person who needs help unpacking and the size of their baggage. I've participated in all the roles - zipping it open for them, sort the mess out, and even the biggie. I've helped some handle and unpack the dirty and the stinky and get it cleaned up.

Everyone has baggage. Let's love each other enough to refuse to haul it around and offer to help unpack it instead.

Sherpa for hire?

That's it, *we* need to have a talk.

I am not *your* baggage claim and *you* are not mine. Listen, we all have our baggage - that's not the point. The point is I have my own to haul and you have yours. Don't make me get yours, I don't have the capacity, and I won't make you pick up mine. I can't be responsible for your baggage just like you can't be for mine. So quit trying to make me pick yours up, assume responsibility for it, and carry it yourself.

I'm adjusted to the way my baggage rolls, the way it feels when I handle it, and the quirks it might possess (wobbly wheels, sticky handle, stubborn zipper, etc). I can get around pretty smoothly with my baggage because I know it. But when someone else pushes their baggage on to me, expecting me to keep the same pace with this additional load that isn't mine, then I slow down. I get clumsy and unsure.

I recognize my baggage right away. It has a distinct marker on it so I don't have to guess at which is mine. But if I'm made to get someone else's baggage then I have to look at each tag as it glides by me on the carousel. It slows everyone down.

There's a reason why airlines ask if you have left your baggage alone at any point in time or if someone you don't know has asked you to carry theirs. Because airlines recognize that sometimes it isn't safe or wise to take on someone else's baggage.  If the airlines get that then surely *we* can too.

Lately I've been having some baggage issues. Some of my own baggage got opened and searched and some of my co-workers have been attempting to make me their personal sherpa's and haul their baggage around. Listen, I'm not here to haul your stuff around for you. I'm not here to carry it for you. I'm not here to be your proxy baggage handler. Do you see me foisting my baggage on to *you*? Yeah, I didn't think so.

Galatians 6:2 tells us to carry one another's burdens. That doesn't mean what *you* might want it to mean. A few years ago I was taking a big trip. I had never taken this kind of trip before and I was at a loss as to how to pack for it. One of my three's came over one day and packed me up. I helped some but she took the lead and showed me the way. She helped to carry my burden of baggage for a season but she didn't assume responsibility for it nor did she come along on my trip and act as my personal sherpa. I had to take care of my own baggage, I alone was responsible for it. She helped me to carry it, sort it out, and lighten up but she couldn't, and didn't, take it on as her own. That's the living out of Galatians 1:2. God doesn't mean for us to haul other's burdens - that's not what "carry" means in this case. He means for us to walk alongside, shoulder some of it in ways that help lighten, heal, and sort it out. If someone else carries my baggage for me I'm not going to learn what it is like to carry my own and sort it out for myself. We each have to learn how to handle our own baggage and not attempt to transfer ownership to someone else.

Listen, I can't, and shouldn't, haul your baggage around for you just as you shouldn't for me. But I am willing, like one of my three's did, to help you - not pack it up but rather unpack it. When it comes to the kind of baggage we are hauling around with us everyday we don't need any help packing that up thankyouverymuch, but am I right when I point out that when it comes to unpacking we could use a hand, well actually a heart, to help us?

Click here for "Part Two"

Hello? Have you seen me under that full time life?

Throughout the years I have worked part time, full time - in the home, out of the home, half and half. Two years ago my hub broke the news to me that I needed to move from working part time out of the home to full time out of the home, in addition to the time already spent being a wife, a mom, and any other hat I was also wearing.  So I put my big girl panties on and got a full time job. I left a part time job I loved at an organization I love and co-workers I loved.  I also left any free time I had during daylight hours to grab a cup of coffee with friends, grocery shop, do some laundry, get dinner ready, exercise, have phone calls with friends in other states, the availability to run errands, etc.  This isn't about my hub, we are a team and in life you gotta do what you gotta do to pay the bills, feed the children and yourself, you know - things like that.  But full time was going to be a challenge in several ways, some I didn't anticipate.

About 6 months in to working full time someone asked Lanny how we were all doing with the transition.  His response, "The girls and I are doing fine, Beth? Not so much."  I wanted to protest but I couldn't.  He was right, they were handling it better than I was. I was exhausted. I spent the weekends trying to recover and do what I couldn't get done during the week. I hadn't realized how much I was still able to do when working part time.

Nothing has changed in two years. I'm still exhausted, stretched so thin some weeks that you can see right through me. My introvert nature has strengthened into an almost full time hermit status and I miss myself. Working full time means I am not the me I am. I have no margin in my full time life for the things that mean the most in and to my life.

A few days ago my friend linked an article to her Facebook page titled, "I Hate My Reality."  I didn't read the article right away but the first thought that went through my mind upon reading the title was "true 'dat."  I confess. I hate my reality.  I am no fan of my life or who I am, or rather am not, when I have to work full time outside of my home. But my reality is my reality so I have a choice.  I have a choice in how I respond to the reality I hate.

About six months ago I whined to my counselor, "When am I going to feel transitioned to this new full time, overtime life?"  She gently suggested that maybe what it is, is what it is.  I went home thinking about that.  If THIS life that I live currently is the transitioned one then I need to adjust my attitudes, expectations, and plans to accommodate this season of life.

It's not just the full time day job, it's the full time life that consists of being a spouse, a parent, a daughter, a sister, an Aunt, a friend.  I'm not complaining, I love all those roles but I'm finding myself lacking energy to be any of those well.  The parenting is about to do me in. The hub and I?  We are finally in a good place after a couple of rocky years but marriage still takes work no matter what.  I sat down across from my Mom the other day and all I had to do was look at her.  She said, "Oh Beth, I know. You'll get through this but I know."  I'm glad I didn't have to say much else, that she just knows and empathizes, I guess back in her season of life that included all this she told my Dad that she couldn't do it all, him and the kids (of which I am one).  He said, "Well we are a package deal so you are going to have to."  SIGH.  I now understand exactly what she was saying to him.  Those are just two roles.  The other roles that mean a lot to me and I don't have the energy to do well?  Not a week goes by that I am not filled with grief for what I have lost in this full time life. I used to be the glue, gladly, for people and things but now I'm like the tape from 1974 that is barely holding the picture in place in the album. It only sticks there because of time, not because it is still useful.

Don't think I don't know.  I do know. I promise.  I knew before anyone else did. Full time has me packing on the pounds and zero energy to do anything about it.  Oh, you weren't sure if I knew? Believe me, while I was still trying to deny it my clothes were telling me the truth. My massage therapist said something to me today that made perfect sense regarding life, my weight, and the need to be healthy.  She was being matter-of-fact but it was the light bulb I needed.  "Obtaining a healthy lifestyle and then maintaining one is like a part-time job."  I deeply sighed and muttered, while face down, "But I don't have the time or energy for another job." That's it.  That's the ground zero of this weight battle I am engaged in.  In my life it is another job. For some they just can go about their lives, eating whatever the hell they want, exercising or not, popping out babies and going back to skinny jeans.  That has never been true of me.  I remember the first time I was aware of what weight was.  I was five.  Since I was five I have battled with weight and it has won more than I have.  The effort it takes for me to be at a healthy weight and have some sort of fitness it literally like a part-time job that I can never quit.  When I try to quit it all comes back on and I lose all ground I had gained.  It sucks and I'm tired. I'm so tired of working that job with literal zero results that stick.  So lest you were hesitant to say something, look at me, or ask because you didn't think I knew, I know.

It sounds like I am whining and complaining but I'm really not. I'm acknowledging.  I'm acknowledging my reality and what I continue to try and come to grips with.  I do what I can to make sure me still shows up in this full time life but it leaves me wanting more time to do the things that mean the most to me.  The celebration and recognition of my 40th birthday was a way I was telling this full time life to go screw itself because I was going to be the real me for a few days.  I rode that high for weeks afterward, it felt so good to be fully myself for a few days.  In an effort to be honest about this reality I live and to try and keep me present in it, I decided that since I earn personal and vacation days (a very generous amount I might add) through my full time job that I would use them. I take mental and spiritual health days, I take vacation days that give me a break from my full time day job so I can focus on my full time life a little.  I use the time to do things around my house that I don't have the energy or time for during the weekends. I engage in self-care which actually includes getting some things in order around the house and then naps, of course!  And then there is the hub and redheads. People say to me, "Oh just make the redheads do the chores and the hub help out." The hub helps out, in fact he volunteered to take over the actual shopping of groceries if I get a specific list together.  Teamwork people!  The redheads? Well we continually try to get them on board with it, that's part of the parenting that is going to do me in. I even heard myself saying to them recently, "I did it all for the better part of 15 years, now I need some help." So I stand firm.  The dishes might be piled in the sink and around the sink and you might see me on a weeknight reading a book, ignoring those dirty dishes. A line has to be drawn and so I chose to draw it in hopes that the redheads will figure it out. (So if you've been wondering how I manage to read so many books a month now you know. I neglect my housekeeping!) I do little things that keep the me buried under a full time, indeed an overtime, life alive.  I tutor during the school year, I teach literacy to kids who are struggling.  It's 2 hours a week and on my way home from work.  I read. I blog as life allows. I meet up with friends for quick daytime lunches and happy hours after work. I get medical massages to help me because I hold stress in my neck, shoulders, and back.  I stay as available as I can for friends who need a hug, a shoulder, and an ear. I spend car time catching up with friends via What's App - that has become hugely important in the past year, it's been a lifeline. The friend might live 10 minutes away or across an ocean, it's been one of the greatest things I was introduced to.  I try to engage in things I believe in and want to bring awareness to. I make sure that I am not two different people, the Beth at work and the Beth at home.  I need to be the same person no matter where I'm at and who I am interacting with. I stay aware of my moods and if I'm grumpy I let my family know and I do my best to behave myself. (Because grumpiness isn't an excuse for misbehavin'.) I get hugs from my Mama every weekday morning that I can before I head into work. I donate blood every 8 weeks, it takes less than an hour of my time.  I convince my husband that spending some money to get me face time with family and friends is vital to my emotional health and I go on trips near and far alone to get time with people that fill my heart, and whose hearts I hopefully fill as well.  These small ways, and others, are how I am choosing to make an adjustment to this transitioned life I'm living.

Maybe you feel stretched too thin by a full time life as well.  And your full time might look, in fact most likely looks, drastically different than mine - that's okay.  This isn't a competition, we aren't here to compare and contrast our lives with one another.  Each of us has a capacity level that gets maxed out.  You might think mine is too low.  I might think yours is too low. It doesn't matter because we aren't in a competition to see who has the most harried life. We should be on the same team, cheering each other on.

Are you living a full time life that has you "hating your reality?"  It's okay, in fact it's healthy, to admit it if you do.  Remember, it's not the admission of it but the response to it that determines how it affects you and others.  What are some ways you have managed to keep the you that threatens to get buried under the full time life alive?  If you feel buried what is one thing you could do today to begin to dig out of the rubble?  

If you'll excuse me now.  I took a day off and a nap sounds great!  *wink*