Heavy Baggage Quotes

I was not offended, my love. An insult is like a drink; it affects one only if accepted. And pride is too heavy baggage for my journey...

In life, when the baggage gets too heavy, you have to put it down.

feminist is so heavy with baggage, negative baggage: You hate men, you hate bras, you hate African culture, you think women should always be in charge, you don’t wear makeup, you don’t shave, you’re always angry, you don’t have a sense of humor, you don’t use deodorant.

[He] has always believed in me. Even when I didn’t believe in myself. Even when I was at my worst, he saw only the best in me, and he was determined for me to see it too. Now I know for certain that Mabel was right. There’s nothing in the world like having someone love you for who you really are. Looking at your heavy baggage and leaning down to whisper in your ear, “You’re perfect.

Life was an enormous rucksack so impossibly heavy that, even though it meant losing everything, it was infinitely easier to leave all baggage here on the roadside and walk into the blackness.

How can we drop negativity, as you suggest? By dropping it. How do you drop a piece of hot coal that you are holding in your hand? How do you drop some heavy and useless baggage that you are carrying? By recognizing that you don’t want to suffer the pain or carry the burden anymore and then letting go of it.

To run fast, don’t take much baggage with you. Leave all your illusions behind. They are very heavy.

There’s nothing in the world like having someone love you for who you really are. Looking at your heavy baggage and leaning down to whisper in your ear, “You’re perfect.

I settled back on the bed with my own heavy sigh. "The point of this reluctant outpouring of all my crap isn't to make you feel guilty. I don't need anyone to be concerned for me. That's my point. Will that change one day? I don't know. I'm not asking it to. But Rhian, when you trusted James with all you baggage you decided that day that you were asking someone to be concerned. You were tired of being alone. Will staying with him be hard? Yes. Will fighting your fears every day be difficult? Yes. But how he feels for you... jeez, Rhian... that's worth it. And telling yourself that it's okay to run way from him to be alone just because I'm alone and okay with it, is bullshit. I'm alone because I just am. You're alone because you made a choice. And it's the wrong fucking choice.

Negative emotions are heavy baggage that slowly burns you down

Everyone has baggage,” he says. “Even you. Just because yours is a different shape and size doesn’t mean it’s not heavy too.

Staying relevant and speaking in kind tones is by far, the best way to make your point. The moment you lose track, throwing out a negative comment you’ve lost your way, and get the terrible task of carrying your own negative, regretful baggage around with you. It’s senseless to create your own heavy heart.

Sit in such a way that you feel light, relaxed, happy, and free. Many of us have so many anxieties and projects that weigh heavily on us. We carry our past sorrows and anger and they become a kind of baggage that makes life heavy. Sitting meditation is a way to practice letting go of the things we carry needlessly.

They way one does research into nonexistent history is to tell the story and find out what happened. I believe this isn't very different from what historians of the so-called real world do. Even if we are present at some historic event, so we comprehend it - can we even remember it - until we can tell it as a story? And for events in times or places outside our own experience, we have nothing to go on but the stories other people tell us. Past events exist, after all, only in memory, which is a form of imagination. The event is real now, but once it's then, its continuing reality is entirely up to us, dependent on our energy and honesty. If we let it drop from memory, only imagination can restore the least glimmer of it. If we lie about the past, forcing it to tell a story we want it to tell, to mean what we want it to mean, it loses its reality, becomes a fake. To bring the past along with us through time in the hold-alls of myth and history is a heavy undertaking; but as Lao Tzu says, wise people march along with the baggage wagons.

Baggage. We all had it. Mine was starting to get pretty heavy.

Running a marathon with a backpack is tough and may hinder you from winning the race. Don’t let the baggage from your past - heavy with fear, guilt, and anger - slow you down.

Forgiveness isn't for the other person. It's for you. Holding a grudge gets heavy and depletes energy. Forgiveness offloads excess baggage, freeing us to live light.

I don’t like heavy baggage.” The driver laughed. “Who does? But before you know it, you’re surrounded by it. That’s life. C’est la vie.” And again, he laughed happily.

If we think of our life as a journey [...] we don't want to move into our future lugging along the heavy baggage of our past. One way to lighten the load is to work on forgiveness and acceptance.

You got a lot of baggage?” Hank asked with a drawl. I shrugged and smiled lightly. “Does emotional count?” He chuckled under his breath. “Well, I’d say it does, but that’s not something I can carry for you, young lady. I’m sure it’s heavy, but you make sure you unpack that bag first,” Hank said, giving me a wink. I couldn’t help but love the man immediately. Jake’s

Of course, you might be perfectly happy ceding all authority to the algorithms and trusting them to decide things for you and for the rest of the world. If so, just relax and enjoy the ride. You don't need to do anything about it. The algorithms will take care of everything. If, however, you want to retain some control over your personal existence and the future of life, you have to run faster than the algorithms, faster than Amazon and the government, and get to know yourself before they do. To run fast, don't take much baggage with you. Leave all your illusions behind. They are very heavy.

Of course much of this was tongue-in-cheek, but what it shows is how that word feminist is so heavy with baggage, negative baggage: you hate men, you hate bras, you hate African culture, you think women should always be in charge, you don’t wear make-up, you don’t shave, you’re always angry, you don’t have a sense of humour, you don’t use deodorant.

Remembering the past that hurts is like carrying the baggage which just makes heart heavy.

Thus with the baggage of the world was I sweetly burdened, as when in slumber; and the thoughts wherein I meditated upon Thee were like unto the efforts of those desiring to awake, who, still overpowered with a heavy drowsiness, are again steeped therein.

Meanwhile, all the travellers whom Candide met in the inns along his route, said to him, "We go to Paris." This general eagerness at length gave him, too, a desire to see this capital; and it was not so very great a détour from the road to Venice. He entered Paris by the suburb of St. Marceau, and fancied that he was in the dirtiest village of Westphalia. Scarcely was Candide arrived at his inn, than he found himself attacked by a slight illness, caused by fatigue. As he had a very large diamond on his finger, and the people of the inn had taken notice of a prodigiously heavy box among his baggage, there were two physicians to attend him, though he had never sent for them, and two devotees who warmed his broths. "I remember," Martin said, "also to have been sick at Paris in my first voyage; I was very poor, thus I had neither friends, devotees, nor doctors, and I recovered.

Of course, you might be perfectly happy ceding all authority to the algorithms and trusting them to decide things for you and for the rest of the world. If so, just relax and enjoy the ride. You don’t need to do anything about it. The algorithms will take care of everything. If, however, you want to retain some control over your personal existence and the future of life, you have to run faster than the algorithms, faster than Amazon and the government, and get to know yourself before they do. To run fast, don’t take much baggage with you. Leave all your illusions behind. They are very heavy.

That’s why it is so dangerous to use infatuation as a sign to pursue a relationship. If you and I don’t know the difference between infatuation and love, we are destined to make some of the dumbest and most regrettable decisions we’ll ever make. These bad decisions come with heavy and painful price tags. So you see, it’s imperative in this tricky business of “falling in love” that we take the time to clearly define what we mean by the word “love.” The investment will pay off handsomely. We can actually learn how to avoid future relational baggage and how to recognize authentic love relationships when we clarify two crucial issues: (1) what love is, and (2) what the difference is between love and infatuation.

I think that what you are most passionate about is the strongest magnet to bring you reward on many levels.” When we release what was, then what is or what could be has space to be born. Children are the happiest people on the planet because they are not dragging the baggage of a long heavy past around with them. If they trip and fall or get upset, they get over it quickly. Nor are they pondering or planning what comes next. The now moment provides them with all the entertainment and fulfillment they need. At some point we all got hung up on time and we abandoned the current moment. We have distracted ourselves with what is not here. Yet the now moment is always available for us to reclaim our soul. At any instant we can step back into heaven. Lao Tse would urge us to pitch our tent right here, the only place life truly lives.

Lachlan frowned as he misjudged the distance and his forehead hit Cormag's head with a bump. He wrapped his arms around his neck to steady himself, two big hands reaching up to hold onto his arms as if to offer extra support. “You,” he began, talking quietly into his ear, “are so beautiful,” he confessed, resting his heavy skull against Cormag's for a moment. He meant it as well. Cormag was stunning. He was taller and broader than he was, very much the fine figure of hotness. His dark hair was well kept, but a little messy, he had amazing bone structure; the type that made him look more like a model than a museum manager. A chiselled jaw, nicely defined cheekbones and a rugged quality that made him so appealing. He had never noticed how handsome a male face could be until those eyes drew him in. “And so are you,” his companion chuckled, “but we discussed this…I've ruined every relationship I've ever had. I get needy, possessive and my baggage gets in the way. Besides,” he lowered his voice to a whisper and brushed his hand over his upper arm, “You're not gay,” he protested, reminding him yet again that they were different. “Nope. Not gay,” he agreed with that, nodding his head as he pulled back a little to see him better. “But that doesn't make you any less beautiful. Why is it wrong that I can see how special you are?” he asked, having difficulty understanding why part of his brain was telling him he was being a drunken idiot and that the man before him wasn't attractive. But the rest of his brain – about ninety-eight percent of it – was telling him that he was the most attractive person he'd ever seen. “It's not, Lachlan. It really isn't.” “But it's somehow wrong for me to tell you?” Lachlan wondered, glancing across the bar to see Matteo smiling at him. He didn't know what it meant. Cormag cupped his face, capturing his undivided attention again. “No. Not that either. But it makes it hard for me to keep my distance. You're stunning. Inside and out,” he claimed, with chocolatey eyes that said he meant every word.

When I burst into the terminal, my eyes swept around, bouncing from person to person in the crowded, bustling space. My stomach fell a little when I didn’t see him, but I knew he probably couldn’t come this far. He was probably at baggage claim. I looked around for a sign to point me in the right direction and finally saw one labeled Baggage Claim with an arrow pointing off to the left. But I didn’t follow the arrow. My eyes fixed on someone standing beneath the sign. His hands were jammed into the pockets of his well-worn slouchy jeans. The relaxed action pulled the waistband low, highlighting his flat, narrow waist his Henley tee molded to. As usual, he was wearing his varsity jacket and his blond hair was a mess. My gaze locked on his sapphire-blue eyes and didn’t let go. His eyes, ohmigod, his eyes. The blue was so intense it served as an emergency brake on everything in my life. The second I looked at him, everything else came to a screeching halt. I no longer noticed the huge crowd rushing around. The anxiety-causing flight was just a distant memory, and the two weeks I spent longing for his touch became something I would live through ten times over just to be in this moment with him again. His lips pulled into a smile and the charm that oozed from every pore in his body made me almost lightheaded. Romeo pulled his hands out of his pockets and straightened, motioning for me. I rushed across the space separating us, my bag slapping against my side as I, for once, gracefully maneuvered around the people in my path. His chuckle brushed over me when I was just steps away, and I threw myself at him with a little sigh of relief. My legs wrapped around his waist and his arms locked around my back. I burrowed my head into his shoulder and inhaled deep, taking in his distinctive scent. “Rim,” he murmured, his voice low. I pulled back and his lips were on mine instantly. The moment our lips touched, he stilled, his body and mouth pausing against mine. Before I could wonder why, he muttered a garbled curse against my mouth and then his lips began to move. He kissed me softly but fiercely. There was so much possession in the way he kissed me, in the way his arms locked around me that my heart stuttered. I parted my lips so his tongue could sweep inside, and when my tongue met his, desire, hot and heavy, unfurled within me. Someone chuckled as they walked by, and Romeo retreated slightly, still letting his mouth linger on mine before completely pulling away. He rested his forehead against mine and he smiled. “I really fucking missed you.” “Me too,” I whispered. -Romeo & Rimmel

Bring the mind back. Try again. Don’t look away. What do I spy now? Heavy bags under my eyes, saggy, slightly puffy, baggage from my dad. I first started noticing them in my late thirties and they horrified me. I didn’t want to look like my dad. Didn’t want to see his reproachful, drooping, disappointing gaze staring back at me every time I looked in the mirror. But there was nothing I could do about it. The bags were there. They were the most conspicuous part of my face. It’s possible no one else noticed them but I couldn’t look at my face and not see them. I think I started wearing thick-frame glasses around then. Twenty-four minutes, thirty-two seconds. Strange. I just realized I haven’t paid much attention to the bags for several years now. I mean, I see them when I look, but I don’t obsess about them anymore. What’s changed? Certainly not the bags themselves. If anything, they’ve only gotten worse. Have I just gotten used to them? Or is it that my feelings about my dad have changed? He’s been dead for more than fifteen years now. The grief and anguish I felt at his death have softened. And when I see his eyes in mine, I don’t see reproach or disappointment anymore. Instead of judgment, I see concern, watchfulness, maybe even a kind of compassionate discernment. So, this is better, an improvement. I don’t mind meeting him here in the mirror. It’s kinda nice. Hey, dad, how you doing?

There can be a sadness when you move from one state to another, as we often find comfort in what we know best and what we have become accustomed to. Transition can bring with it fear, as well as a desire to look to another for aid, just as the child looks to the ferryman. The Six of Swords, being in the suit of the mind, on a higher level represents the journeys of the mind and the transition to new ideas and ways of thinking; on a lower level, it relates to any transition we undergo that involves leaving something behind. We can imagine that the woman and child in the boat are being ferried to a new life, away from something in the past that may have hurt or threatened them. The ferryman may be the father of the child, or he may be a stranger they have hired for help in getting across the river. We can see that, whilst they do not have all of their possessions with them on this journey to a new life, they have retained a few chests that contain some belongings. When we move to a new state of mind or being, or undergo a spiritual transition or a physical move, we never truly leave the past behind; the trick is being able to differentiate between good baggage and bad baggage. Sometimes we can use the past, and all we have learned and gained from it, to propel us forward in momentum across the river to the other side. Sometimes we cling only to the baggage from the past that weighs us down, and in that case the weight may be too heavy for the boat and start to sink it. It is, ultimately, our choice as to what we pack in the chests that we take with us on the journey.

However effective trolling rhetoric might be, particularly when dealing with unwanted trolling attention, the act of trolling is heavy with ideological baggage. No matter what purpose the act is meant to serve, it is and will always be predicated on some degree of antagonism. Ryan Milner argues that there is an important distinction between antagonism that facilitates robust dialogue—as was the outcome of SAFE’s proposed book burning party—and antagonism that silences, marginalizes, and denigrates.

Maybe it's just easier to hold onto resentment and bitterness.But when you hold onto them, you're imprisoning yourself, not the other person. Not forgiving is pretty heavy baggage to carry around.

Look around! People have faces with no smiles, as if they are carrying heavy baggage. Stop them! Give them a SMILE and see them Light up.-RVM #Inspiration #stayinspired

Human inheritance is both blessing and curse. And in religious inheritance this paradox is acute. For many of us religion is heavy baggage. Stories of love and fear, liberation and constriction, grace and malice come not only from our own experiences, and our family's past, but from an ancestral history within a tradition. What curses do we need to shed, in the process of growing up? What can we hold to, as blessing?

Doesn’t change the way he feels about himself either.” Ash let out a heavy sigh, and Dex had a feeling the guy wasn’t referring to just Sloane. “I’m sure the fact you love him despite all his baggage means a hell of a lot to him, but that shit doesn’t get left behind. Some of it—his mom’s death….” Ash pursed his lips and shook his head. “He might be able to think back on it one day and not feel guilty, but he’ll never forget. What happened to us back in that facility might get more bearable with time, but it fucked us up. It made us what we are. The way we are.

Traditionally, reaching the state of illumination symbolized by the center bestows a different fate from that of the ordinary person who accepts salvation. For the latter, life after death will persist in many different planes of being — higher ones, no doubt, where existence is less painful and burdensome and where spiritual aspiration faces less resistance. But those who attain gnosis are freed from this spiral entirely. They can choose to return to manifestation for a special purpose or can dwell in absorption into God — known in the Christian tradition as the “beatific vision.” They are, to use T. S. Eliot’s famous words in Four Quartets, “at the still point of the turning world.” In the Gospels, one name for this still point is “the eye of the needle.” As Christ says, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God” (Mark 10:25). This means that the “I” has to be very fine and subtle to reach this still center of being. A “rich man” — one who is encumbered not only with property but with the heavy baggage of a pompous self-image — is too big to make it through. Obviously, this is an inner condition and so does not necessarily refer to all rich people, though in practice it probably applies to most. Francis de Sales, a Catholic spiritual teacher of the early seventeenth century, observes: A man is rich in spirit if his mind is filled with riches or set on riches. The kingfisher shapes its nests like an apple, leaving only a little opening at the top, builds it on the seashore, and makes it so solid and tight that although waves sweep over it the water cannot get inside. Keeping always on top of the waves, they remain surrounded by the sea and are on the sea, and yet are masters of it. Your heart . . . must in like manner be open to heaven alone and impervious to riches and all other transitory things. Money — “mammon,” as Christ called it — is only one of the forms the force of the world takes. There are people for whom money holds no allure but who are beguiled by sex, pleasure, or power. And for those who are indifferent even to these temptations, there is always the trap of apathy (accidie or acedia, derived from a Greek word meaning “not caring,” are names sometimes used in the tradition). There are many variations, which will take on slightly different forms in everyone. Freeing oneself from the world requires overcoming these drives in oneself, however they appear.

Even if they’re often heavy and unwieldy, our past lives are not baggage. They are not defects; they are features. Our past experiences—especially the hard ones—help us navigate the world around us and ahead of us.

It took me a few minutes to realize I was free of the load. That’s the thing with baggage—you get used to carrying it around. You know it’s heavy but the weight has a way of becoming a part of your life. Only when you take it off your back and feel the lightness does the awareness of the load hit you.

She studied the face in the mirror for a good half hour. Scarcely recognised the individual staring back at her. Wondered how much truly remained of the person she was. The turbulent existence, the traumas, the wear and tear, the physical injuries and mental scars... all left indelible marks over time on people like her. They warned her of that from the very outset. Baggage, they called it, because you carry it with you wherever you go. Some bags were heavier than others. Too heavy. Most eventually broke under the enormous strain, succumbed to the inevitable and just burned out. Or ended things in the only way they knew for sure was permanent, removed any variables in favour of a dead cert, you might say. Humans are frail creatures.

Life was an enormous rucksack so impossibly heavy that, even though it meant losing everything, it was infinitely easier to leave all baggage here on the roadside and walk on into the blackness.

Most of us travel through life with heavy, bulky emotional baggage. To our great relief, with meditative practices and their healing modalities, we can shrink this baggage to carry-on size.

Think about your identity. The truth is, you’re not a progressive or a conservative or a moderate or radical or some other political noun. Those are words for ideas, not people. Your mind is way too weird and particular to be locked in a noun or adjective prison. Attaching a political category to your identity is a heavy piece of baggage to carry around, and putting it down makes learning and exploring much easier and less stressful. Think about people or groups you hate. Who are you disgusted by? Remind yourself that this is almost always a delusion of your Primitive Mind. You certainly don't have to like everybody. But when you’re disgusted by a person or a group of people, you've gotten swallowed up by human craziness.

Depending on others doesn’t mean you throwing all your problems on their shoulders. I think that it’s shifting some of the baggage that’s too heavy to bear on to others. That way you can both appreciate the difficulty of the load, and once you’re finished carrying it, you can share in the joy of overcoming it together. Being able to do that without any restraint or hesitation, that’s family, isn’t it? Making them exasperated, making them angry, it’s all okay. The bonds of family aren’t so easily broken.

...it takes a special person to be a great foster parent, someone who realizes that the child he or she is receiving isn't perfect and probably is carrying a lot of heavy emotional baggage and bad habits. But that understanding and acceptance are essential if foster parents truly hope to bring any sense of normalcy to the child living with them in their home. The rest is all uphill from there.

Look around! People have faces with no smiles, as if they are carrying heavy baggage. Stop them! Give them a SMILE and see them Light up.

So many people are carrying their regret and pain around like they are badges of honor. Guess what? They’re not. There’s nothing you can do about it now, so stop playing victim to it. Before you email me, listen clearly. I’m not belittling the event, what I’m saying is that…it is over. God did not intend for us to carry around such heavy burdens and baggage. It's the enemy of our souls that ties us down with such things. It’s to keep us from living our lives in the freedom Christ offers and it hinders us from being all Christ calls us to be. Remember Romans 8:1, ‘There’s no condemnation for those who are in Christ.

A lot of us carry that baggage... I urge people to pack light. [...] Romantic relationships where we were actually the ones who needed to change, but we always blamed the partner. And we continue to switch partners over and over again wondering why they still won't act right. Ultimately, it's because we have to let go of our own baggage. [...] I figured out the reason why I couldn't get through the day as well as I can now was because I had too many things on my mind, on my plate, for one person to have. So I started to eliminate some of the things that were too heavy to carry and unnecessary. [...] I felt very discouraged to go out in public at one time, and the weight was heavy. I wanted to feel light again. [—Erykah Badu]

Seeing him didn’t mean she forgave him, but she’d decided a long time ago to let go of the damage he’d done to her life and the lives of her mother and siblings. That baggage was just too heavy for her to carry around forever.

Begun in fire, ending in ice. The poet was wrong; ice was a better destroyer than fire, particularly if you were in the mood for vengeance. Fire was quick and clean, a leap of flame, a wave of heat and then nothing but a pile of soft and formless ash, dispersed with the first breeze. Ice was slow, heavy, corrosive, relentless, grating. It took a long time to get where it was going, and when it got there, it left behind a towering confusion of rubble to be sorted and identified and disposed of. Ice left baggage.

We carry our past sorrows and anger and they become a kind of baggage that makes life heavy.

Your past follows you wherever you go. You must leave your heavy baggage behind in order to start afresh. Before you are ready to start the next chapter in your life, make sure the old ones are closed for good.

15. Shedding The Heavy Unnecessary So, before we go too much further, now is a good chance to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, we are all a little guilty of sometimes living someone else’s aspirations for us instead of our own. And this is a great time to say ‘No more!’ to living out of fear and other people’s expectations. It is never an easy time to face some of those old negative feelings, but it is always a good time to change the way we pack and what we choose to carry further down the road of our lives and adventures. Ultimately, the more ‘bad’ equipment we carry, the slower we go and the less far we travel. Each of us gets to choose. But when we shed the bad and travel lighter, a few things happen. First up, I bet that you will laugh more, you will worry less and you are much more likely to achieve your dream. Travelling light also keeps us free to adapt our adventures or careers. Free to listen to the calling. How often do great opportunities come to people, but they are too ‘busy’ or maybe too cynical to even notice them, let alone walk through an exciting new doorway. Winston Churchill (him again!) once said words to the effect that everyone gets the chance to make their fortune once, but not everybody takes it. If you’re weighed down, head down and bunged up with emotional junk, you might miss that chance. So look wisely at the ‘baggage’ you carry and your attitudes to the world. They will define you. Do they enhance your life and increase your chances of reaching your dream, or do they hold you back?

We carry our past sorrows and anger and they become a kind of baggage that makes life heavy. Sitting meditation is a way to practice letting go of the things we carry needlessly. These things are nothing but obstacles to our happiness.