The Things We Carry

This week felt heavy.

Not because of one big thing. Because of lots of little things.

The kind that quietly climb into your backpack, one by one, until you suddenly realise, it's getting to heavy to carry.

From the outside, the week looked fairly ordinary.

My son sat end of semester exams and his GAT.

Work continued with budgets, tax plans, and training.

Football training happened.

Most afternoons included a walk.

The washing basket remained undefeated, and there’s not an empty clotheshorse in sight.

The weekend involves footy and another birthday celebration.

In other words, life.

Yet underneath all of that, I found myself carrying more than I realised.

This week I had a doctor's appointment, specifically for an expired script. Another lesson learnt about that.

After starting from scratch with a new doctor, and listening to my long list of complaints - forgetfulness, losing words mid-sentence, anxiety, stress, unexplained aches and pains, difficulty losing weight and that general feeling that something just isn't quite right - he suggested peri-menopause may be playing a role.

Apparently this stage of life comes with its own collection of surprises.

Part of me felt relieved. Part of me felt annoyed.

Not because peri-menopause exists, but because my first instinct is usually to assume everything is my fault.

If I'm tired, I should get more sleep and try harder.

If I'm forgetful, I should be more organised and tidy.

If I'm stressed, I should manage my time better and let things go.

If something feels wrong, surely I'm just not doing enough.

The older I get, the more I realise life isn't always that simple.

Then there is the challenge of finding answers.

As an accountant, I know how important long-term professional relationships can be.

Some of my clients I've worked with for years.

I know their history.

Their businesses. Their families. Their goals.

I can often answer questions because I understand the whole story, not just the issue sitting in front of me today.

Yet when it comes to healthcare, I don't have that same relationship.

I don't get sick often. I don't have a regular doctor.

And sometimes it feels like every appointment starts from the beginning again.

You explain your history. Tell the story. Answer the questions. Then leave with a few more questions of your own.

Perhaps that's just part of being an adult.

We're all trying to make the best decisions we can with the information we have at the time.

Then there were the other things.

The things that don't appear on calendars.

Worries you can't fix. Questions without answers.

The kind of things that quietly sit in the background while life continues around them.

Work still needs to be done. The kids still need you. Football still happens. Dinner still needs cooking.

The world doesn't pause just because your heart feels heavier.

And maybe that's why I found myself feeling a little flat this week.

Not because anything dramatic happened.

But because sometimes the weight of carrying lots of small things catches up with you.

One of the things I've noticed as I've gotten older is that most people are carrying more than we realise.

The parent worried about their child.

The adult child worried about their parents.

The friend waiting for medical results.

The business owner worried about cash flow.

The worker questioning their future.

The family quietly navigating challenges nobody else knows about.

We rarely see the full backpack someone else is carrying.

We only see them continuing to walk.

This weekend is also the Winter Solstice.

The shortest day of the year.

A reminder that seasons change.

Not overnight. Not dramatically. Slowly. One day at a time.

Maybe that's true for us too.

Maybe we don't need to solve everything today.

Maybe we don't need all the answers right now.

Maybe some seasons are simply about putting one foot in front of the other while carrying what needs to be carried.

And trusting that eventually the days will get longer again.