We all have baggage. It's like carrying around this huge bag stuffed with the culmination of all our experiences, all the stuff we picked up along the way. In my bag are also all the things my parents carried around and passed on to me, stuff my grandparents passed on to them, and so on. It's gotten pretty heavy over the years.
I am learning how to take a look at what's in my bag and decide if it's serving me. I can decide to let it go. Sounds easy to my adult self.
Have you ever tried to clean house with a child? Trying to go through old clothes and toys to see what is no longer needed. What needs to be trashed? What can be donated for someone else to use? I make 3 piles- keep, trash and donate. Every time I turn around something I placed in the trash or donate pile is back in the keep pile. The kids simply can't let that item go. They think they might need it or it has memories attached or they simply can't imagine what life looks like without that item.
This is what happens with my inner child when I try to let it go. And anyone that knows the powerlessness of trying to rationalize with a child knows that rationalizing doesn't work. Rationalizing can only get me so far. I need a new way. I can't do this on my own. This is why I need support. This is why I need to keep working on my stuff. Because sometimes my bag gets too heavy and I take a peek in my bag to find I didn't let go. I put it back in the keep pile. And more often than not, there's stuff in my bag that doesn't even belong to me. Like the guilt and shame of someone else. My bag is heavy enough, thank-you