On my way to uni, I noticed something about the crowd around me. Every person, without exception, carried a bag. Some had small, understated ones slung over their shoulders, others wore heavy backpacks that looked like they had traveled miles. There were handbags clutched tightly, crossbody bags that swayed with every step, even trolleys pulled behind, dragging across the pavement.
It got me thinking, as these things often do.
In life, we are always carrying something—memories, experiences, joy, sorrow, trauma. Some of it is light, barely noticeable, while some of it weighs on us like a burden we never asked for. Sometimes we overpack, trying to prepare for everything, stuffing our "bags" full of things we think we’ll need. Other times, it's the world, the people around us, that load us with their expectations, their hurt, their baggage.
But the choice to unpack is ours. We can sift through what we carry, decide what’s essential and let go of what only drags us down. Or we can keep it all—the good and the bad—letting the weight slow us to a crawl, barely able to move forward.
Some of us seem to glide through life with ease, effortlessly balancing the load. Others are hunched over, struggling under the weight of it all, taking each step with effort, one foot in front of the other. It made me wonder—what’s in my bag, and what have I been holding on to for too long?
