Okay, I admit it. I’m notorious for packing the proverbial kitchen sink. When I hear the term “packing light,” I can’t help but smile. I’ve worked hard to become efficient at packing, and it’s taken a long time. Fear of the unknown necessitated that I pack for every eventuality–a behavior rooted in insecurity. Heaven forbid I find myself in an unfamiliar place without some small item like my personal shampoo or a bottle of Tylenol. No matter where we are heading, my husband now reminds me, “If we forgot anything, we can always purchase it.” It’s finally sinking in!

Packing light when it comes to emotional baggage requires letting go of resentments, hurts or sadness. This kind of light packing I am accustomed to after years of life and loss. Dragging around unnecessary emotions allows them to weigh us down and hold us back. I deal with them and let go. This is much easier said than done, as I can attest to; but it is an imperative ingredient for a well-balanced life. To jettison is to discover freedom. Emotional baggage is like a person with a rope trying to haul a train down a track. I cannot afford this. I also cannot afford to allow the news of the day to worm its way into my head and cause turmoil. With all the misinformation put out by political fear mongers on both sides of the aisle, this can easily happen. My plate overflows with things I can do something about without allowing myself to be burdened with things over which I have no control. They take all the fun out of life. Let’s face it, existence in this world is difficult, and I believe in enjoying life as much as possible while I’m still able.

Despite overpacking when I travel, I willingly rid myself of any nonessentials in my home. What I retain must meet one of three requirements: It is something I use or will soon use, is a family heirloom, or brings a smile to my face and warmth to my soul. If it doesn’t meet one of these three, I am anxious to find it a new home or throw it out. This keeps my home uncluttered and as functional as the space will allow.

As I am learning not to overpack for travel, I want to continue uncluttering my daily life so it reflects a simplicity that is easy to live with. The following poem was written a few years ago. On occasion, I drag it out and re-read it in order to remind myself to continue to pack light–when traveling, carrying emotional baggage or in my home.

Copyright 2/2/18
Laurel Jean Becker

Pruning in Late Summer

I pad my knees against the ground’s small stones
and deftly lean toward my garden flowers.
It’s time again to prune the old spent buds,
while holding hope for more late summer blooms.

I gently cut each failing summer shoot,
reflecting on my own pale, withered sprigs.
They clutter life and slow my cautious steps
toward newer goals and long-held childhood dreams.

I seize this chance to simplify my world
and jettison unnecessary work.
Say no to life I do not yearn to live;
make room to sow experimental seeds.

I rid myself of those who jar my life,
and make me feel I’m planted in loose sand.
Requiring all my dwindling energy,
they sprout fresh needs I cannot satisfy.

Take time to grieve about a few lost blooms—
the unmet aspirations of my youth—
replaced by random, unexpected boughs
that redirect my paths and energy.

Release the goals that flooded yesterday.
Tomorrow brings its own vibrant rewards.
Time lends itself to future borrowers
who focus on potential garden growth.

I’m cautious not to sever healthy leaves
so that the shrub endures no pointless loss
of needed strength before first winter’s blast
when sudden chills forecast a dormant life.

Yet some small, lucky flowers get to stay,
the ones bloomed late whose colors did not fade.

Previously Published
In the Heart of a Quiet Garden, Finishing Line Press
Copyright 2013 Laurel Jean Becker