We all carry a backpack, one way or another.

It may contain family burdens, work stress or mental weight. Sometimes it carries modern afflictions, like the need to pretend that everything is fine. At other times, much older ones, like the desire to be perfect in an imperfect world.

On the seesaw of life, the past sits at one end. Sometimes it becomes so heavy that the future can no longer rise.

In between lies the hinge of the present.

Anyway, those burdens almost certainly weigh more on Mondays.

So here’s a thought:

what if, for once, we let the backpack carry us?

Perhaps we might discover what it feels like to float for a while.