So, I once wrote a poem called "The Heaviest Bookbag." I'll share at a later date, but it asks the question about the source, the weight, and the reasoning behind the things we "carry."
With a limited about of time and strength in this life, I'm starting to realize that it's really important, respectful, and considerate to give some serious thought to what we decide to put in our bookbags, pack in our suitcases, and carry on our shoulders.
Until next time...
Also, here's some motivation in the meantime:
Don't Let Me Fall, B.o.B.