A Bag Full of Rocks
(written August 22)
My boots made a soft sound as they hit the compact and slightly moist dirt. Small rocks skip as my feet kick through the path. Stepping over a fallen tree and carefully navigating through the bush, a gentle breeze comes across my face. This trail has led me through many valleys, mountaintops, steep climbs, and level ground.
Packing for this trip, I imagined how my pack would feel lighter as time went on. As you eat the food and drink the water, it only makes sense that it would weigh less. And yet, it feels heavier than when I started.
There’s a clearing up ahead, under the shade of a large fir tree. There’s a table and chair there and a stream with crystal clear water.
As I come closer to the clearing, I notice that beyond the tree, there are multiple paths, almost too many to count. Which path should I take? I’m not sure, but at this point, I’m too tired to think of the options. It’s time to take a break.
The first thing that comes off is the backpack from my shoulders. Resting it beside the chair, I collapse into the seat and take a deep breath. It’s a hot day, and the shade is a welcome companion. After a few moments, the stream comes to my attention. A quick swim, a drink of water, and a quick wash of my face later, I’m back in the chair.
Leaning to my left, I open my backpack in search of a snack. As I rummage through, I notice a number of rocks. “What are these doing here?”
I start to pull them out and put them on the ground when I notice the writing on the rocks
Clear communication. Be happy. Taking initiative to build on relationships. Make an effort to get to know people before you judge. Respect others. Being able to put yourself in someone else’s shoes. Drive. Work Hard.
I realize that these are expectations that I have. They are rocks that I’ve been carrying with me through this journey. And they’re heavy.
I’ve been holding onto these, collecting them along the way without even realizing that the accumulated weight is slowly wearing me down. I’ve held on to them, not wanting to let them go. They’ve become a part of who I am, to the point where if they aren’t met or if they are challenged, I get defensive. I close myself to understanding why someone else doesn’t understand. Why don’t they have the same expectation?
My expectations come from my values, and I’m fiercely protective of my values. But in holding onto these values and sharing these expectations, I’ve come short of certain goals that I have, particularly the goals of being open-minded and well-rounded.
As I sit here and look at these rocks, I realize that they aren’t a part of me. Rocks can be useful, they can have a purpose. They can be beautiful. They can be a support that gives strength and foundation, something you can build off of.
Sometimes, these rocks just get in the way. And if I have a backpack full of rocks, I would imagine that others do as well.
I learned two things today.
The first is that it’s important to look at the rocks that I have, and think about which ones are good to take with me on the journey.
The second is that I don’t need to force others to pick up the same rock as you. Even if their rock is different, it doesn’t mean that they can’t co-exist together. If you and I put our rocks down on the table and talk about them, we realize there’s more than enough room on the table for all of our rocks. And if we take the time to listen and understand a rock that seems foreign to us, it can benefit us.
Sitting in this chair, listening to the gentle stream trickle down, watching the sun pass through the sky, I realize that I have the time to re-evaluate.
The trail I just hiked represents my past experiences, while this place of rest symbolizes this road trip, a sort of surreal time in my life where responsibilities are few. The paths ahead are the options that I have in my future.
But for now, I can take the time to rest and repack my bag. I might as well take advantage of that.
