A Tiny Story

There was once a young woman walking down her life path, and every so often she would pick up something and put it somewhere: in her pocket, her back pack, purse, over her shoulder even. This goes on for years. She thinks these things she is collecting will improve her somehow, make her smarter, prettier, happier and look more successful, and they do make her feel good for a little while—until she thinks of something else she wants. She hears about some of these things from other people. Some are the way others behave, and present their image. She sees some accessories on other people and they look so nice. Some are shiny, some do things. But it becomes increasingly heavy for her to carry it all. On top of that, she holds onto all the disappointments and failures from her experiences on her path, and these too become quite heavy.
Her back begins to ache, her knees hurt, and she begins to walk bent over with all the weight of it. And then something changed. She felt she couldn’t carry it all anymore, so she sat down with all her things clanging around her. The ground felt so good. Without holding up all these enhancements, pretend acts, and objects she thought would make her better, she felt lighter.
So, light, in fact, she decided to disentangle herself from all of these things. And suddenly she felt a rustling in her back. And in a beautiful unfolding, with a loud womp, womp, she lifted off the ground with silvery white wings that had been tucked within her all these years. Her heart opened wide and she knew she always had everything she could have ever needed, already inside.