Ten of Staffs

I repacked my bag this morning. After barely moving all day yesterday, I emptied everything onto the floor and started over. I had accumulated far more than I realized. Papers I wasn't going to read again. Things I had picked up because I thought I might need them. Plans I had written down and no longer cared about. Even my pack seemed to be carrying evidence of how determined I had been to fit everything into this journey.

So I started making two piles. One for what would continue with me. One for what wouldn't.

It became strangely satisfying. Every time I put something aside, I felt a little lighter. Then I started thinking about everything else I had been carrying that couldn't be placed on the floor. The need to see everything. The ridiculous schedules I kept making for myself. The feeling that changing a plan meant I had somehow failed at it. Those could stay here too.

There were things I wanted to keep. My curiosity. My excitement. The courage I had found walking alone. The confidence to trust myself. The willingness to keep going even after a difficult day. Those had earned their place. When I finally lifted my pack, it felt different. I think I did too.