How We Love Things with Pockets

By Linda Tate

Today, I was thinking about life, and how we all love things with pockets...don't we? Big purses, back packs, jackets, all with multiple places to keep our stuff.

What if you were to empty out your back pack of life...what would you find? Better yet, what would you throw away??

As I mentally open my pack, the first compartment I come to is my pocket of empty promises...those I made to myself, to others, and those given to me. You know the kind...this year I'm going to lose 30 pounds (and you gain 45, bringing on a cascade of guilt and self loathing), or that person you trusted with your deepest secrets...they promised they wouldn't tell anyone...then turned around and not only betrayed your trust, but they laughed while doing it, right? Nice.

I decide this pocket can be thrown out. After all, it's empty...isn't it...

The next pocket I come to is my pocket of foregivness. This is a tough one. I have a list in here of all the people who I think should have said they were sorry to me, but they never did, and all the people who I should have forgiven, but didnt. And then there's the people I asked forgiveness from who never gave me an answer. So much pain in this pocket. Lord, have mercy. I hesitate to empty this one, but decide I must.

My next pocket is one of loss. This pocket is so deep, and the sadness so penetrating, that I don't even want to open it. I peek inside, then slam it shut again. I steady myself, then slowly open it. I have to. This pocket isn't only about loss of life...loss of loved ones...it's also about loss of friendships, loss of children as they moved out and started living their own lives...without me. It's also the loss of innocence, the loss of fertility, the loss of youth...the loss of memory, loss of control, loss of good health...oh my, this pocket is so deep.

I recognize that this pocket will take time to sort through, so for now, I close it up and leave it as is. At least I know where my work lies. The last pocket is full of anger. Anger at some of my losses, anger at the cruelty in this world, the unfairness, the bias, the greed, angry that people can't even let the light turn green before they honk at me...ugh...I empty this one quickly. It's toxic.

I feel better. I've made room for other things that deserve space in my pack. Joy, laughter, memories. ..

When's the last time you looked through your backpack of life??? Spring is here...time to clean... ©May 2021 Linda Tate