Like most people, I've got my downside. I am acutely aware that there are some days that, if my personal luggage were visible, an observer might mistake me for a flight attendant, minus the snappy outfit and svelte figure. Okay, maybe "flight attendant" is not an apt comparison. Perhaps "hobo" or "recently evicted tenant" would be better.
The point is that we are fools if we forget about the luggage. Especially if we aren't particularly fond of or patient with the folks who are hauling it around, ourselves included.
Decked out in my "test coordinator" uniform yesterday, I could not help but trip over all the luggage that littered our school that day. From the grumbling of the occasional adult put out by this added responsibility piled atop an already-full schedule to the palpable moans of a stressed-out kid who was drowning in words whose meanings evaded him, it was hard to ignore all the extras that people brought with them that day.
As for me? I had to make a little extra room in my office for my own carry ons--namely, a small bag of resentment, a backpack full of fatigue, and an overnight bag stuffed with the fear that people might not like me very much, considering what I've been asking them to do lately.
That's why it's especially important that we don't forget to pack a little compassion and forgiveness each day. And we shouldn't hesitate to apply a dab of those balms directly onto ourselves. If we're lucky, that handful of compassion we carry with us will look like the threadbare Kleenex our moms always had tucked into their sleeves--worn out from the opportunities presented to it.
Most days, I consider it a success if I have worked hard, played well, helped others and kept the damage to a minimum. Wouldn't it be something if, at the end of each day, we had played a part in helping folks--ourselves included--happily shed some extra luggage at the Baggage Claims area, where it would grow dusty and forgotten, its contents no longer needed?
No comments:
Post a Comment