When a walk is not a walk

So I got a new computer bag yesterday.  It was awesome, enormous, black and filled with more little pockets and holders than I any sane person needs.  It is so big that I use it for my purse and my writing stuff as well.
Which means it is full.  And heavy.

So I am walking, smoking and listening to my spotify playlist.  Carrying my extremely full bag.  It’s a ten minute walk.  The strap starts to shift up my shoulder to my neck and dig into my skin causing a slight pain to erupt along my collarbone.  I move it back to my shoulder in hopes of alleviating the irritation.  It moves back as I am walking.  I decide to move the position of the bag.   I cross the first block.

The new position alters my gate, making me walk with a limp like stride.  All the weight is balanced on my left side dragging me forward so I correct by leaning back.  My enthusiasm is being over shadowed by the annoyance I feel trying to get comfortable.  As excited as I was to recieve this bright shiny thing it seems to be more trouble than it is worth.   With that thought the bag becomes more heavier, causing me to slow down because at this point my body is working a bit overtime trying to carry this ungodly amount of extra weight.  I have crossed the second block.

Down, down, down it drags me. Mocking me with it’s hefty size, digging into my sides and back.  I am just shuffling along now, refusing to give up my internal fight against gravity.  My mind starts to spin off scenarios to take it off the insurmountable pain I am feeling at this point.

What if this is a test?  I am being made to suffer to see how I will get through it.  This  heavy weight that I carry is not really weight at all but my own fears and past transgressions that I have carried around since their inception.  They will not become light until I can forgive myself and stand up to them.

By now my shoulders are hunched and I am almost to the point of stopping my walk to work and taking a much deserved rest in my opinion.  Maybe taking the damn thing off and letting it slide to the ground.  I know if I do this I will not pick it back up.  It is too much for me to carry.  Too heavy, too painful.

I pull my head up from it’s hung position and look into the cloudy sky pushing against me.  Even nature wants me to fail at this point.

Just stop, rest.  Drop your heavy burden.

No!  I yank the strap up and straighten my back in challenge to some imaginary evil that is trying to batter me down.  The last block is in sight and I feel a rejuvination of energy for my journey is almost over.

I think to myself, this weight that I carry is not too heavy for me to lift.  No matter how long I carry it for. God, I hope it’s over soon.  I tell myself I am strong enough for this.  I can do this.  This will not be the end for me.

My pace shifts to accomodate my  new stride and I have almost reached my destination.  I look and can see it across the street.  Salvation is almost here.  I can do this.  This abnormally large weight is not so great after all.

All at once this extreme weight shifts and loosens.  It floats until I can walk with almost no pain again.  The clouds have started releasing misty drops in celebration of my success.  My mouth curves in a sideways smile as people pass me by staring awkwardly at my awkward walk.  I do not care,  for I have reached my destination and am finally able to drop this once bright shiny thing that I coveted and be done with it for good.

Yes!  I have done it!  I feel like dancing, pride filling all my pores and making me giddy.  I make it into the office expecting shouts and cheers from my fellow associates.  I stop as soon as I open the door.

All is quiet inside.  I look behind me, thinking they have surely not seen me come in.

Then I realize. I have just made an impossible journey that no one will ever know about.  I have no one to celebrate my accomplishment with, no one will understand the trial I have just gone through and barely passed.

No one, except you.

This is when a walk is not just a walk.


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