Baggage; Yours and mine

It’s shocking how weighed down we are.

We like to think the story begins with us. Maybe that’s the problem. Because none of us is the whole story. We are the sum of our genetic parts-- a history made of lives upon lives, all culminating in us. Humanity traveled a long way to bring each of us into existence , and like any other traveler, it brought baggage.

Lots of it.

In an easier world, relationships (friendships, loves and acquaintances) would be as simple as me + you. But it’s really so, so much more complicated than that. It’s me, my parents, their parents, their parents’ parents and on and on,--back through to the beginning of history-- and you, your parents, their parents, anyone who affected them… you get the point. And each of those people that came first-- each one that had to happen for us to happen-- each was a real, complete person. Which means they had their own beliefs, fears, prejudices, abuses, addictions, dreams, losses and cravings. And each of those things leaves a mark, eroding into the character of a person in a way that is irreversible and undeniable.

Maybe it would be better if the experiences of a life were contained to that life. But they aren’t. Because like I said, experiences shape people, and those people, shaped by those experiences, raise children who are shaped by the consequences of those experiences. For better or worse.

Relationships are difficult because they mean setting aside hundreds of years of collective experiences and deeply ingrained beliefs. I’m not just mad because you didn’t pick your socks up, I’m mad because generations of people before me taught me it is unacceptable to leave socks on the ground (okay, not really, just making an example). And you’re not just mad because I’m nagging you, you’re mad because you saw someone else in your family nagged and swore never to be treated that way. And that person, in turn, allowed the nagging because they had experiences that convinced them it should be tolerated, and so on.

Every argument--be it with a spouse or a co-worker or a stranger on the freeway-- has a chorus of voices behind it. The baggage of every mistake or lesson learned the hard way since Adam and Eve.

Maybe that’s why people are so angry now. Maybe it’s just getting too heavy and we’re tired of carrying so much.

It’s hard stuff to put down. It’s difficult to let go of prejudices, beliefs, faults, feuds and crusades. It’s hard to live entirely in ourselves, taking each experience for what it is and not for what it reminds us of.

But who knows how many trips ‘round the sun we each get? No day is guaranteed. And there’s no way to possibly live life fully bogged down under so much baggage. So lets put these things down now, as much as any person can. Because I appreciate all those lives that made mine possible, but now that I’m here, I want to live it-- with nothing more than a carry- on an a diaper bag.