Baggage Now

Just last week I lay in bed, awake in the middle of the night mentally composing letters to people. I hate when this happens, and thankfully it’s rare. Mentally composing things isn’t rare, but it keeping me awake is. I couldn’t stop. I wrote; I edited, and I rewrote. Finally, I convinced myself that if I ended the mind-chatter I could take time the next day to write. It worked. I fell right to sleep. The next day was sunny and lovely, but yet I sat down and started writing. I should have decided that the night before was a white lie to myself, but no. I’m even honest with myself (as often as I can be).

I’ve owned the book, The Power of Now, for many months now, but I haven’t been able to get myself to read it. It’s a book about being completely present, conscious, and living in the now. The book has been touted by coworkers, friends, and even Oprah. But it seems too extreme, and the introduction includes some anecdotes that made me question the author’s authority. Not that he claims to necessarily be an authority in the way we normally use that term. But in any case, I immediately had my hackles up, or whatever the human equivalent to that is. I’m just not a rah-rah, drink the Kool-Aid kind of person. I’m a skeptic.
I borrowed a copy of this book on cd, hoping this way I could get through it. Why? Why bother? For a couple of reasons, first was the reaction to the book (mine included). Reactions have been so strong that I wanted to hear the actual message. And since I was assuming what he’d say, and getting defensive over my assumptions, I needed to confront the material. Secondly, being present isn’t something I’m against. I can admit that I have an undisciplined mind. Though I can see the benefit of being more disciplined and present, I’m not necessarily ready to prioritize disciplining my mind. I’m not abandoning the idea, just not prioritizing it. I have recognized how my undisciplined thoughts can influence my happiness, and I do strive to be more present.

I didn’t get very far in writing my letters last week. I started one that I thought would be easy. It wasn’t. I became even more frustrated than the night before. Part of the frustration was the subject matter, and creating the text, but most of it was with myself for even bothering. What was the point? What would anyone gain from it? I had wasted the majority of a sunny day on negative thoughts. I’ve done this before, a letter writing campaign. It only worked out once, and that letter was a long apology on my part. Maybe, I’m not good at bringing up issues that need resolved – at least not in letters. Or maybe letters aren’t the right format?

Anyway, this morning I started listening to the book again. There’s been a long hiatus, so I just restarted the disk that was in my cd player. There was a portion I remember hearing once before. This time it struck a nerve; it was more relevant. He talked about resentment. He said any resentment you feel towards situations or people, is poisonous to yourself and others. He asked ‘if it were your choice, would you choose to take on these feelings and burdens?’ Of course the implication is that it IS your choice. So he gave three options: 1) just drop the resentment like a heavy bag 2) talk to the person you have these feelings about and resolve the issue and 3) something I can’t recall. Of course I immediately thought of the letters. I have left them behind and moved on. But these are deep-seeded issues and resentments. I’m certain they are still lurking. They have not been dropped on the floor and abandoned like a heavy bag.
Now I’m left wondering if I should actually follow the advice from the book and attempt to resolve these issues. I’m not sure that’s actually an option for me. I feel like with my particular recipients, I only have the option to drop my baggage and run. That is unbelievably hard though. Every time I think I’ve done it, something happens; I find a bag is still sitting next to me and I reach for it.