I used to walk about a mile to school every day starting in kindergarten. I was a “towny.” I lived in town, and a whole group of us walked to school together. I felt so grown up and independent. I loved it.

It was safe—paved sidewalks the entire way—and Mr. Boise, the crossing guard, was always there to help us cross the big four-lane Grand Street (US-131).

In school, I loved music, art, and any presentation where I could make something. I loved building the volcano that erupted and creating a paper mâché stegosaurus with giant spikes on his back. I loved learning new songs on my flute, and I would stay up all night working on a drawing with colored pencils.

It took me until seventh grade to notice something about the group I walked with.

Most of them carried just their lunch box and backpack, walking with ease—neither out of breath nor dealing with a sore back. They chatted, laughed, and arrived at school (and home again) without much effort.

I, on the other hand, carried everything I thought I might need that day.

I had my flute and lunch box in one hand. My books and art supplies were stuffed into a bag I wore cross-body so my shoulders didn’t feel like they would fall off. My art project lived in a separate folder so it wouldn’t get bent. Most days I was also balancing my gym shoes. And chances are, I was juggling a Ziploc bag full of Cheerios—just in case I needed a snack.

Looking back, I could have left over half of it at school like everyone else.
But I thought I might need it at home to practice.

So I carried it all back and forth every single day…
just in case.

The Pattern We Carry Forward

As an adult, I find myself doing the same thing—carrying too much.

When I travel, or even head to a gathering of friends, I feel a twinge of envy for the people who walk in with one tiny, tidy bag—so simplified.

Meanwhile, my mind offers a running list as I prepare to go:

• What if it’s too hot or too cold? Bring a sweater.
• What if your shoes aren’t comfortable? Throw in an extra pair.
• What if it rains? Bring an umbrella.
• What if there aren’t enough seats? Add a folding chair—your back might hurt.

For every possible scenario, I bring all the things…
just in case.

And honestly? That’s how life can feel sometimes.

I am carrying things I don’t need to carry—
physically and emotionally.

Choosing to Set Things Down

In this chapter of life, I’m becoming really aware that I can set some things down.

I can simplify.
I can choose to carry only what fits in the backpack.

Wouldn’t that feel better—for my body, my heart, and my soul?

I’m working on defining what truly belongs in the backpack and getting brave enough to ask:

• Are there times when it might be incredibly freeing to not carry a backpack at all?
• What would happen if I walked through life without all that extra weight?

I’m making this a daily practice—choosing the path with more intention, consciously simplifying, both physically and emotionally.

“What I know for sure is that when you declutter—whether it’s your home, your head, or your heart—it is astounding what will flow into that space that will enrich you, your life, and your family.”
— Peter Walsh

A Healing HeArtwork Practice: The Circle of Control

Each morning, I write in my gratitude journal while sipping my coffee. Inevitably, thoughts of anything remotely stressful try to creep in and disrupt the calm.

So I started doing something new.

On the next page, I write down the stressor—and then I ask myself:

• Is this in my control?
  • If yes, what is one small thing I can do to ease the stress?
• Is this out of my control?
  • If so, I set it down and let it go. I allow the universe to unfold as it will.

I remind myself:
I can’t control everything—and I don’t have to carry it all.

This Circle of Control practice is one I include in my course, Field Guide to Your Happiest Life (sign up for the email list if you’d like to be the first to know when workshops are launching).

A Gentle Invitation

As you move through your day, I invite you to pause and ask:

What am I carrying today that I don’t need to carry anymore?
What would it feel like to set it down—if only for a moment?

I hope this reflection helps you in some small, meaningful way.

Let’s nurture our hearts a little each day.

With love,
Kim