From “The Wounds Are the Witness: Black Faith Weaving Memory into Justice and Healing” by Yolanda Pierce
I’ve carried some kind of book bag or tote bag since kindergarten. I want to be prepared for the unexpected, to be able to pull out of my bag, like magic, whatever is needed for the occasion.
For the longest time, I didn’t notice my bag’s heavy load or its impact on my body. I liked feeling prepared and in control. I liked that other people knew they could come to me if they had a need. It took a visit to the doctor to point out what should have been obvious. My persistent neck strain was due, in part, to carrying around such a heavy bag for so many years – a bag whose weight I barely felt anymore.
That’s what happens with all the psychological baggage, trauma, and burdens we carry: we can get so used to lugging it around that we don’t even know how to lay it aside. We no longer notice the strain of the weight we bear. We get so used to the wounds of life, so used to the brokenness, that we don’t even realize those things are the source of our physical pain or spiritual suffering. Pain becomes our normal way of being in the world. We can’t imagine a life without the heaviness and the despair. We may even wonder who we are without the pain.