Barbara Bever and Sukia

Sukia
Inspiration piece

Packing for the Future
By Barbara Bever

Response

The pain in my back, the crick in my neck and the pinch in my shoulder are begging me to toss my luggage overboard. It’s been stuffed with diapers and wipes, books and toys, and just-in-case changes of clothes; it’s bulging with visa-stamped passports and health certificates recording the typhoid and tetanus injections that were to keep my family safe in those far-flung countries; peeking out of side pockets are colorful maps of places visited long ago, a jangle of keys that no longer open doors, a pen that can never write another story, and a flashlight with a burnt out bulb; here’s a red lipstick bought in haste for a once-youthful face; there’s an empty bottle of Germaine perfume, worn when I lost my virginity. Weighing me down still are the unfulfilled fantasies of childhood, the perceived slights of my teens, and the grudges of adulthood. Packed in the nooks and crannies—hiding for now, but easily rising to the surface as I move through life—are the real heavies: anxiety, depression, anger and fear.

I want to travel lighter in the future. This is my journey now and I’ll pack only those things necessary for my success. I’ll wear a soft leather pouch on a silken cord across my breast. Inside will be a pink ribbon to tie me to my heritage, rescue me from the depths of despair, and tie back my hair when the winter wind carries me to the crest of the sea. I’ll also take a vial of summer breezes to uncork should I slip into the doldrums. In go a fin and a fine feather to remind me I am meant to glide and soar on this sky-dive adventure. Since there will be no secrets or locked doors ahead, I relinquish all but one key; it is the key to my story—past, present, and future—already inscribed into every cell of my being by the pen of the Universe. When I want to dance upon the clouds and waves, I’ll tie seashells to my toes, and listen to the rhythm of the song in my heart. Yes, that heart will be very full, but not heavy; it will hold love and forgiveness, joy and compassion, and respect for all the creations of this realm. No flashlight needed here; my guide will be my inner light.

With such a lightness of being, I can float gently into the future. Once rid of the emotional baggage, I’ll travel more swiftly, too. My inner compass will steer me toward The Middle Path of moderation, between the heights of self-indulgence and the troughs of self-denial. According to the Buddha, “It is just this Noble Eightfold Path, namely: Right View, Right Intention, Right Speech, Right Action, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, and Right Concentration,” that leads to wisdom and enlightenment. I am packed and ready to go. Are you?

(inspired also by a Lorna Crozier poem and Tim O’Brien short story)….

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Packing for the Future
By Barbara Bever

The pain in my back, the crick in my neck and the pinch in my shoulder are begging me to toss my luggage overboard. It’s been stuffed with diapers and wipes, books and toys, and just-in-case changes of clothes; it’s bulging with visa-stamped passports and health certificates recording the typhoid and tetanus injections that were to keep my family safe in those far-flung countries; peeking out of side pockets are colorful maps of places visited long ago, a jangle of keys that no longer open doors, a pen that can never write another story, and a flashlight with a burnt out bulb; here’s a red lipstick bought in haste for a once-youthful face; there’s an empty bottle of Germaine perfume, worn when I lost my virginity. Weighing me down still are the unfulfilled fantasies of childhood, the perceived slights of my teens, and the grudges of adulthood. Packed in the nooks and crannies—hiding for now, but easily rising to the surface as I move through life—are the real heavies: anxiety, depression, anger and fear.

I want to travel lighter in the future. This is my journey now and I’ll pack only those things necessary for my success. I’ll wear a soft leather pouch on a silken cord across my breast. Inside will be a pink ribbon to tie me to my heritage, rescue me from the depths of despair, and tie back my hair when the winter wind carries me to the crest of the sea. I’ll also take a vial of summer breezes to uncork should I slip into the doldrums. In go a fin and a fine feather to remind me I am meant to glide and soar on this sky-dive adventure. Since there will be no secrets or locked doors ahead, I relinquish all but one key; it is the key to my story—past, present, and future—already inscribed into every cell of my being by the pen of the Universe. When I want to dance upon the clouds and waves, I’ll tie seashells to my toes, and listen to the rhythm of the song in my heart. Yes, that heart will be very full, but not heavy; it will hold love and forgiveness, joy and compassion, and respect for all the creations of this realm. No flashlight needed here; my guide will be my inner light.

With such a lightness of being, I can float gently into the future. Once rid of the emotional baggage, I’ll travel more swiftly, too. My inner compass will steer me toward The Middle Path of moderation, between the heights of self-indulgence and the troughs of self-denial. According to the Buddha, “It is just this Noble Eightfold Path, namely: Right View, Right Intention, Right Speech, Right Action, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, and Right Concentration,” that leads to wisdom and enlightenment. I am packed and ready to go. Are you?

(inspired also by a Lorna Crozier poem and Tim O’Brien short story)