Too Heavy to Fly: Unpacking the Suitcase of Life—One Story at a Time

Photo by Jemimah Gray on Unsplash

A few hours wouldn’t be nearly enough. 

She began to tell her story, all that had happened that year. At first glance, it seemed like there were only a few things to talk about, a few incidents to process. They weren’t all bad. They weren’t all hard. Some of the events were fun and exciting, ones worthy of celebration with others. 

In either case—the pleasant and the uncomfortable—these life moments were heart-felt and full of emotions. It would take time to tell the stories, to process them well, to look back over them, to learn from them, to discover ways to move past them, and to find paths forward.

This wasn’t a journey that could be rushed.

Heavier Than She Thought

Before beginning, my friend didn’t realize that the story bag she was carrying wasn’t only full of life’s events from this year. Rather, as she began to unpack all that had happened recently, she realized that much of her pain and grief was somehow connected to her past . . . the past she had left unprocessed. 

It was as if the threads of her stories and her experiences were still connected, still tied up, still knotted in her ball of yarn called “Life.”

“It sounds like there’s an accumulation in your suitcase,” I said to my friend. “Have you ever had a chance to walk through your entire story?”

“No,” she replied. “Never, and it feels long overdue.”

The Suitcase of Our Hearts

“That’s why your suitcase is so heavy,” I explained. “A lot of things have happened in your life, one after another, both beautiful and hard. Left unprocessed, we just keep carrying them in the suitcase of our hearts. We never stop long enough to take the time to unpack them, pull them out one at a time, look at them, admire them, decide if we want to keep them or throw them away. They just accumulate.”

“I’ve never taken the time to process my story,” she responded. “Life just happens and keeps moving full-speed with marriage, kids, work, language study, travel, COVID . . . we just go into survival mode.”

“That happens for all of us,” I reflected.

She continued, “Actually, I don’t really have anyone around besides my husband or my teammates to process with. Oftentimes, they are going through the same stuff. I need someone else, someone on the outside, to talk to. I need to tell my story to someone.” 

“When we don’t have the time or the place to process, things keep building in our life, keep accumulating in our bag. Little by little, we add to our suitcase more experiences, more grief, more pain, more challenges, more conflicts,” I explained. “As global nomads, we keep carrying our suitcase with us from place to place, country to country.”

“And it gets heavier and heavier on the journey,” she said.

Photo by Gemma Evans on Unsplash

Unable to Carry It

“Eventually, we won’t be able to carry it anymore. We may collapse, burn out, or give up,” I added. “It’s just too heavy, and something has to give way. The suitcase might burst open.”

Her eyes widened, and I could see the light come on as a new awareness washed over her.

“I admire you for your decision to stop the craziness of life, the mad rush of family and work responsibilities. I admire you for taking the time to sit down your heavy suitcase and begin to unpack it,” I told her.

A smile beamed across her face.

“Are you ready? Are you ready to sit down on the floor, unzip your overweight suitcase, and start processing your life?” I asked her. 

She nodded.

“We can start wherever you want. You decide what item you want to show me first. Tell me the story behind it, and the emotions you feel when you look at it and touch it. We’ll go at your pace,” I said.

She pulled her giant suitcase out of the hallway closet and lugged it over to the middle of the room. Two of its wheels were broken from its weight.

Over 50 Pounds?

“I think it weighs more than the allotted 50 pounds,” she said, chuckling out loud.

“They used to let us fly with 70 pounds,” I said laughing. “Those days are long gone. Ok, let’s start unpacking this baby, so you don’t get charged for extra weight anymore!”

As we sat down together on the floor, with steaming cups of hot tea on the coffee table beside us, she began to unzip the bag.

“I think we’ll need more than a couple of hours to go through this, but I’m ready,” she said. “My arms—and my heart—are tired of carrying around this heavy suitcase.”

Photo by Neal E. Johnson on Unsplash

Unpacking

Little by little, she began unpacking. 

She pulled out the stories about her arrival into her host country—the excitement of a new adventure, the thrill of learning a foreign language and culture, and the joy of meeting new colleagues. Along with that, she shared the stories of disappointments, of unexpected losses, of challenges, of pain that had accompanied that entry. 

We sat together as she reflected and grieved.

She felt relief and freedom as she emptied her sack. Her load felt lighter. After processing her painful stories, she felt like she could lay those down and let them go. 

Next from her suitcase, she removed the stories about her child’s miraculous delivery, the success in passing her first Arabic test, the moment she received her 10-year residency card. 

We celebrated together, as she remembered those happy milestones and rejoiced.

Those monumental events were like memorial stones. She decided to hold on to those and keep them as reminders of the goodness of this season—its beauty and joy.

One by one, she continued the process . . . the process of unpacking her heavy suitcase.

Yes, it would take time. But, she wasn’t alone in the journey, and she would definitely be underweight on her next flight!

Guest author, Marci Renée, along with her French husband and four boys, is a global nomad who has traveled to more than 30 countries and has lived in the United States, France, Morocco, and Spain. She loves to travel, speak foreign languages, experience different cultures, eat ethnic foods, meet people from faraway lands, and of course, write and tell stories. She is a published author of children's picture books, memoirs, short stories, and poetry.

You can find Marci and her books on her website.

"The Cultural Story-Weaver," at www.culturalstoryweaver.com