My Worry Rock

Once upon a time I carried a worry rock around on my head. It was quite heavy, crushing my brain and my neck, causing pain in my back, making me tired every day. I held it on my head with my hands and arms which caused them to become tired and achy.

Every night as I laid down to sleep, I would take the rock and place it on top of my body somewhere. Sometimes on my stomach squishing and twisting my guts into knots. Sometimes on my head making my brain  thump and throb disturbingly. But mostly I placed it on my chest. I couldn't breathe. My heart would hurt. And there I would lay, my spirit and joy crushed by this boulderlike worry.

Day after day I carried my worry rock. Slogging along. Tired, beaten down. Worn down by my cares. Both those that were real and those that I had come up with in the night. Worries came and went, but my rock never got lighter, only heavier.

Until one day, I had a day of reckoning. I felt a voice say, "Why do you insist on carrying that rock of pain? Don't you know that you do not have to carry it? It is not in the plan for you to be downtrodden. And in fact, the rock you carry today isn't even rightfully yours. Please put it down there beside you on the left. Place all of your pain inside it. I will take care of it. If you ever feel the need to pick it up again, turn and look at it. Remind yourself how heavy it has been. Think of how carrying it changed nothing but your peace of mind. And remember, if it ever needs to be carried, I have already carried it for you. Feel peace. My peace. That is what I want for you. That. Is. What. You. Deserve."

So I put it down.

And when I felt a need to pick it up again, I would look at it, remember the weight, remember the voice, and I chose to let it sit, walking forward with peace.