lugging a luggage is exhausting
i have been packing my things. things that have been in my room for years. things that mean so much to me for a period of time. things that have accompanied me through childhood. things that have been given to me by loved ones. things that meant so much to me. throwing them off may be the most painful thing to do.

then again, having them with me didn't really make me feel stronger nor braver when i meet life's trials. life still goes on without these things. i don't rely on them for strength. it's the memories that held me back. i stumble over birthday gifts which have wrappers still on. i realised i was travelling back through memories. hard memories which i wouldn't want to unpack at this moment in my life.

so i took with me trash bags and off i threw. decided to throw out pain, lonliness, unwanted memories. realised it's the best thing to do. while packing, i found a stack of books - new books which have collected dust and i haven't read. came across this book titled: Travelling Light by Max Lucado. he said it so true. many a times, i leave the house with the bags below:

"The suitcase of guilt. A sack of discontent. You drape a duffel bag of weariness on one shoulder and a hanging bag of grief on the other. Add on a backpack of doubt, an overnight bag of loneliness and a trunk of fear. Pretty soon you're pulling more stuff than a skycap. No wonder you're so tired at the end of the day."

it's true. lugging a luggage isn't fun. it is exhausting. time to set my stuff down. time to throw them off the window. time to let go of the worst pains. do you feel likewise?