Spirituality & Religion

What Works: Baggage

Letting go of our burdens

We’ve all heard the jokes. Ever since the term “baggage” entered popular use thanks to the 80s inner child movement, it’s been both a warning — “I have a lot of baggage” — and a punchline.

Example: A few weeks ago on Jay Mohr’s sitcom, Gary Unmarried, before he meets his ex-wife’s new boyfriend, she says: “And I really like him, so please don’t make that joke about how his strong grip will come in handy when he’s carrying all my baggage, OK?”

The broad definition of baggage is: something from the past that continues to weigh you down.

Christine used the word “fraught” in last week’s excellent column about toxic friends. I love the word fraught. It comes from the same root as freight and literally means “loaded down with baggage.” So many of us are loaded down with baggage from our past. So, literal and spiritual housecleanings are a necessary practice for everyone. And if your past regrets and scars are ruining your present, cleaning your spiritual house can transform your life.

The most common use of the term baggage is trauma or bad experiences from the past that taint your ability to face the present with trust. The most disturbing is child physical or sexual abuse, but many less severe forms come into play too. Typically, when past experience of dating jerks and deep unresolved issues with parents block us from being able to trust and be open with a partner.

Another kind of baggage is low self-esteem, perhaps due to a parent who told us we could never succeed or that we were ugly, fat, stupid, useless, etc. Despite being years, even decades, free of their direct influence, we can still be weighed down by these judgments.

I’ve talked here before about What Works: Baggage

Spirituality & Religion

What Works: Never should

Removing should and have to from your vocabulary

I drink my morning coffee with milk. For some reason, I can barely stand drinking it without. One rainy evening I’m at home on the couch and realize I forgot to buy milk, and I groan to myself, “I should go to the store to get some milk.”

I feel nothing but annoyance, at myself for being so stupid that I forgot to get milk on the way home, and at the universe in general for being so unfair. But no one is telling me I have to get it. I want it. And it’s at the store. So, actually, I am choosing to go to the store because I want milk. I may not want to get up off the couch and go out in the rain, but I am choosing to do this because I am willing to inconvenience myself to satisfy by desire for milk. It’s all free will.

For many of us, a harsh critic dominates our inner dialogue — telling us what we should and shouldn’t do. It shames us about big things. I should make something of myself. I shouldn’t yell at my child. And it nags us about trivial things. I should go to the store to get some milk.

While this last carp seems innocuous enough, it simultaneously berates us for being lazy and puts us in a victim role, from which we can reluctantly do the right thing… while complaining. Quite a neat maneuver with just a single word.

[Read the rest of What Works: Never Should at bustedhalo.com.]