I’m walking down the path, along the bank of the river. Enjoying the cool, beautiful day, with my item clutched in my hand. My item that represents what I need to let go. What I need to give up.
And then I look down. There around my wrist is an even more specific, more meaningful item. Every time I look at that bracelet, the meaning behind it is overwhelming.
So I take it off, and placed it in my hand. I remove from my wrist the weight I had been carrying.
I was ready togive it up.
So I scaled the mountain.
And dropped my treasures on the ground.
Lying on the ground they looked small. Almost meaningless. And there I left them.
Since returning home from that place, the place where I left my treasures, where they became rubbish, I have thought even more about the things that we carry.
I had been carrying that bracelet around, physically wearing the places in my heart that I refused to surrender.
What else do I carry with me? what things do I place in front of my face that I should learn to give over?
Fear of being alone. Fear of being separated. Fear of being hungry.
Memories of friends and family. Memories of patients. Memories of a “better time.”
The need to be included. The relationships that I insist on controlling. Greed. Need to own things.
The idea that those things that are in my life, could really be destructive to my soul. destructive to my relationship with the one who loves my soul. That those things that I hold dear are actually parts of my life I need to get rid of…
Since then, I have been much more aware of the bracelets around my wrists, and the things I carry.
