What Are You Carrying That Is No Longer Yours?
Sometimes we don't realize how much we're carrying until something small feels unexpectedly heavy. An unanswered email. A change of plans. Someone asking one more thing of us. The laundry sitting in a basket. Suddenly we're irritated, exhausted, or close to tears and wondering why something so ordinary feels like too much. Usually, it isn't just the laundry. We're carrying everything that came before it too. The responsibilities we chose. The people we love. The things that genuinely need our attention.
And sometimes, mixed in among all of that, we're carrying things we picked up so gradually that we stopped noticing their weight. Other people's expectations. Responsibility for how everyone else feels. Roles we've outgrown. Promises made by an earlier version of ourselves. The belief that because we can hold something, we should.
I've been thinking about this as we approach the Autumn Equinox. Trees are beginning their own seasonal change. They don't release every leaf at once. And they don't release because the leaves were wrong. Those leaves served the tree beautifully. They gathered sunlight. They created nourishment. They offered shade. And then the relationship changed. Maybe that's something worth remembering. Something doesn't have to be bad for us to recognize that we no longer need to carry it in the same way.
The Things We Carry With Love
Some of what weighs on us came from very good places. We said yes because we cared. We stepped in because someone needed us. We became dependable because being dependable mattered to us. Perhaps we learned how to anticipate what everyone needed before they even asked. And there can be real love in all of that.
So this isn't an invitation to look at everything we're carrying and start throwing things overboard. It's simply an invitation to become curious. Is this still mine to hold? That's a different question.
Maybe you've been trying to solve a problem that belongs to someone you love. Maybe you're still fulfilling a role in your family that made sense years ago but doesn't fit who you are now. Maybe you're carrying an expectation of yourself that you never consciously chose. Or perhaps something really is yours to carry, but you've been carrying it alone when you don't have to. Balance asks us to notice the difference.
Responsibility Is Not the Same as Carrying Everything
For many of us, putting something down can feel uncomfortable. We worry that we're being selfish. That someone will be disappointed. That things won't get done. Sometimes those concerns are real.
Our choices affect other people. But there is a difference between honoring our responsibilities and assuming responsibility for everything around us. We don't have to become indifferent in order to have boundaries. We don't have to stop caring in order to stop carrying. And sometimes putting something down doesn't mean walking away from it completely.
It might mean asking for help. Having an honest conversation. Allowing someone else to find her own answer. Doing something differently. Or acknowledging that we simply don't have the capacity we once did. There can be wisdom in recognizing that.
The Equinox Invitation
As we walk toward the Equinox, nature begins turning toward release. But September's invitation is Balance. Perhaps there is a reason Balance comes before Release on the Wheel of Remembering.
Before we can know what we're ready to let go of, we may first need to notice what we're holding. No judgment. No urgency. Just recognition.
What belongs here? What still feels alive? What feels complete? What have I been carrying simply because I've become accustomed to its weight?
We don't need to answer every question today. Maybe one is enough. And maybe the first act of balance isn't putting anything down at all. Maybe it's finally noticing how much we've been holding.
A Remembering Practice
Find a quiet place and bring your journal. Take a few breaths and imagine placing a basket in front of you. Let the basket represent everything you're carrying right now. Begin writing down whatever comes to mind. Responsibilities. Relationships. Decisions. Expectations. Unfinished conversations. Things you're worried about. Things you're trying to make happen.
Don't sort or analyze yet. Just notice. When you feel finished, read through what you've written slowly. For each one, gently ask:
Is this mine to carry?
You may notice different answers.
Yes, this matters to me.
Yes, but I need support.
Not in the way I've been carrying it.
I'm not sure.
No. This belongs to someone else.
You don't need to act on every answer. Choose one thing that feels ready for a small shift. Then ask:
What would carrying this differently look like?
See what comes. Let one small adjustment be enough.
Continue the Wheel
September invites us to Remember Balance through alignment and reciprocity. Sometimes balance asks us to add something that has been missing. Sometimes it asks us to receive support. And sometimes it begins by recognizing what we've been carrying without ever stopping to ask whether it still belongs in our hands.
The Wheel doesn't ask us to release everything simply because autumn is approaching. Our inner seasons have their own timing. It asks us to listen. To notice. To remain in relationship with ourselves as the season changes. And perhaps that is enough to help us recognize what is ready to stay, what wants to be held differently, and what may eventually be ready to fall away.
A Sacred Reminder
You do not have to put everything down. Begin by noticing what is actually yours to carry.
A Blessing
May you walk gently.
May you trust your own rhythm.
May every return remind you that home has always been within you.
🌙
Until Next Time...
Â