About two months after I got hired for this job, I realized that when the company had said to me that I would need to travel for some trainings a couple of times, what they really meant was that I would be in a hotel and/or on a plane about once ever 4-6 weeks. After "graduating" training, the travel schedule changed. But honestly, it's still intense at times. Between personal travel to see the "family I choose" and work travel, I am usually on a plane about once every 6-8 weeks and sometimes twice, and I'm often in a hotel about once every 4-6 weeks. It's a good thing that practicality and need won out over the poor-graduate student sensibilities I had when I started this job. Yes, it's true, for my first two trips in 2006 I used a rapidly disintegrating gym bag. Worse than how it looked and how inefficient it was, it was uncomfortable to carry! So, one week, I'd had it. I got myself over to a store and bought a Wenger.
They're well made, and I estimate I got about 60-75 trips out of mine. But they don't last forever. Last week in Seattle I noticed that mine was really on it' last legs. I had only one zipper left on the whole bag that still had a zipper pull, and other portions of the bag were fraying, losing structure, and in general becoming less useful.
So, after landing in Denver on Tuesday night this week, I got my dying luggage, got my car, and drove directly to a store to buy a new one.
I bought another Wenger. It's a decent suitcase, and though it might not be the best, I didn't see anything better that suited my needs for portability and size. I bought the upgrade, actually - it has a hard case bottom and a soft top so it's expandable, but hopefully a bit more durable. It also had four wheels instead of two. I carried both suitcases in, emptied one, did laundry, and began filling the new one up right away knowing that in less than 36 hours I would be headed back to Denver airport for this trip.
I like the new suitcase. Good job so far. But of course, I bought the suitcase, not anything new to put in it. Same shoes. Same toothbrush. Same toiletries bag.
Different suitcase, same baggage. I wonder how much of the same shit I pack with me every day. Like, I leave notes for myself on the inside of my front door to make sure I don't forget things. I am often on the road by 8am and not home again until 12+ hours later so I need to have my office equipment, handouts or materials, snacks, water, etc. There's usually a note on my door saying something like, "Gym bag + headphones!" If I am really concerned about leaving valuable things behind I'll leave them sitting in front of the door, such that I cannot pass through it without stepping on them.
But, of course, there are things I don't put on the list. They come with me as a given. I don't have to write a note to remind me to bring my purse, or my keys. So what other things do I carry with me without realizing it? What other baggage? Do I walk out the door feeling doomed to repeat bad patterns with food? Do I bring pessimism that makes me negative, or optimism that may make my expectations unrealistic? Do I bring the seeds of making bad decisions out the front door, without ever putting them on "the list?" Do I bring the worry that I might be unworthy of better things?
I saw a poster once that said, "Relationships: you are the common link in all of your failed relationships."
And I am. With the run down I gave yesterday, it's pretty clear that while I believe I am an awesomely supportive, loving, and fun girlfriend (One of my best friends from grad school and I used to talk about relationships a lot and we both agreed, we were giving and nice and fun and just all around GREAT at treating someone right and therefore or girlfriend abilities were rockin'), I don't have the best track record in finding who to offer that to. So what does that really mean about my girlfriend abilities? And worse, about my future? When I enter into caring about someone and making room for them in my life, I wonder what I take with me that spells "certain doom. " The kind of doom that others see . . . and then tell me about AFTER it's over (as was the case repeatedly after my second engagement - the relationship I moved to CO for - failed. After hearing, "Oh, I never liked him," or "I didn't think he was good enough for you," for the 13th time I finally said, ""Yeah, next time, pick a messenger to get shot and TELL ME. Obviously I don't know what the FRAK I'm doing").
What could I pack differently? Could I find a wellspring of confidence and conviction? What about the serenity and patience to let my feelings catch up with me (perhaps the subject for another post but, I am really, really not good at processing my emotions on the spot. It sometimes takes days for me to realize something made me angry, for instance) so I had some feelings to go on. What about the wisdom and courage to say, "I see the good in you, but your brand of the-not-so-good isn't a great fit for me."What about the ability to know when to say no, the ability to walk away, the feeling that it is ok for me to say, "This _______ (job, relationship, task, food) isn't working for me."
I worry that because I don't see myself clearly (both literally and figuratively), and because I do carry things with me without questioning them (my purse, my inhaler, my need for structure, my rigid expectation that everyone is better looking than me, my unstoppable nerdiness, my ability to love someone like it's my job and to see the good in them, even when the bad may outweigh the good) that I carry the good with the bad, unexamined. If I can't separate the baggage out into what is clean clothes, what is dirty, and what needs to be retired and left behind, then I will keep carrying all of it. Doesn't that mean I will keep repeating the same patterns then? That the Empty Calories will never take up residence elsewhere? that it will be that much harder to eat the salad instead of the french fries (I had a salad today, and it was SO GOOD. Whew!), to find the balance of work and play, to be ready to be with someone who is prepared to be good to me, to be really happy and satisfied in a way that allows for the fact that I might not be happy about everything at one time.
I'd like to get there. But to a certain degree, it's become comfortable to carry around a LOT. My stories. My fears. My insecurities. My deep-seated need to be loyal to a fault and beyond. My tiny deoderant that I've only ever needed to use once in the last 4 months. Why do I assume that I need to take all of these things with me?
It's probably time to "trim the fat." It's time to drop the things I don't need (fries, extra weight, concerns I won't be good enough, belief that this is all I deserve, and . . . well, I might keep the deoderant. It's pretty cute.) and replace them with things I do. It's just hard, sometimes, to sift through the piles.
With that, I am off to unpack. For the second time this week.
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