The Weight of the World

I went hiking in Southern Indiana with a few friends last week. It was a hilarious and delightful experience that required frequent breaks for selfies, videos of us crossing the same creek three times in our bare feet, and conversations about the absurdity of hiking in mud. The laughter was frequent and the nature was lovely.

Because of the felt need to document the experience, I pulled my iPhone out of my backpack and then put it in my pants pocket for easy access.

A note of context in case you are not a hiker or have not purchased outdoor wear in the last 20 years: modern hiking clothes are designed to be light and free-moving, both for comfort and to diminish the weight you carry.

Which means that placing something heavy or bulky in your pockets changes the feel of your clothing drastically. As opposed to sliding your phone in the back pocket of your jeans and forgetting it’s there, your hiking pants remind you with every step that you’re carrying something.

So on this particular hike, I was very aware of my phone in my pocket. And it felt like the weight of the world.

I mean, think about it. From that little brick I can access every email I’ve ever received, every news station in the world, and the unasked-for opinions of half of the human beings on the planet. I am tethered to mankind, even standing in the middle of an icy creek in the hills of Indiana.

Technology serves me. Trust me, I do know that. I’m the one who says Google is her best friend. But this particular day, it also felt like technology was weighing me down.

As we continued our trek down the creek bed, we started noticing that many of the rocks beneath us were imprinted with fossils. I picked a few up, inspecting the shell-shaped imprints, and thinking about the crazy weirdness of fossils. The shells are breakable, impermanent, dainty, but beautiful and useful to those who live inside. The rocks are solid, permanent, less obviously beautiful, but clearly full of value. And yet, the shells have left a permanent impression on the rocks.

The temporary leaving an imprint on the more permanent through weight, pressure, and time.

You can already guess where I’m going, right?

What am I allowing to imprint a permanent fossil upon myself? Is the weight of the world worth carrying around all day, every day, if it will change me forever? Is this temporary piece of technology leaving a mark on my eternal soul?

What about you? What are you carrying around that’s weighing you down, and how do you deal with it?