We all get a choice today.

We get to choose whether to feel upset when something or someone doesn’t meet our expectations. Or we can accept that things are just the way they need to be in this moment.

We get to choose whether to doubt ourselves based on some silly story we internalized at age 10. Or we can hug that 10-year old and tell her you’re moving on.

We get to choose whether to go through the day full of anxiety because our heads are firmly planted in next week or next year. Or we can reel ourselves back to the present moment, where we’re perfectly safe.

We get to choose whether to keep revisiting the past in the hopes that just one more visit might change what happened. Or we can let yesterday float away, taking with us only the lessons we learned.

We get to choose whether to make time for spiritual growth, exercise, meditation, service and love. Or we can continue to fixate on distractions, worry and fear.

We get to choose whether we focus our energies on controlling other people. Or we can have faith that those people are on their own path, and our input is not required.

Sometimes it doesn’t feel like we have a choice, right? Because our behavior and thought patterns can be powerful – the ones that tell us we need to control others, or that everything is fine as is, even if it’s really not.

But they’re just patterns. My patterns aren’t me. Your patterns aren’t you.

And we have a choice to move beyond them. So much freedom awaits.

There is an old story about two monks who were traveling together. At one point, they came to a river with a strong current. As they prepared to cross the river, they saw a beautiful woman also attempting to cross. But she was afraid of the water and asked them for help.

Without hesitation, the older monk picked up the woman, carried her across the river, placed her gently on the other side and resumed his 
journey. The junior monk was horrified, given their strict vows forbidding physical contact with women. An hour passed on their journey, and neither spoke.

Two more hours went by, then three, with the younger monk growing increasingly agitated. Finally, he blurted out accusingly, “As monks, we are not permitted to touch a woman, how could you carry her on your shoulders?”

The older monk looked at him and replied, “Brother, I set her down on the other side of the river, why are you still carrying her?”

This story is a great reminder of how much we can carry around if we’re not careful. We wouldn’t go around lugging a backpack full of rocks, but we think nothing of dragging around bitterness, judgment and resentments for years or even decades.

I remember in seventh grade, a popular boy said something derogatory about me, not realizing I was behind him. I was so ashamed. And that shame was seared into my subconscious for decades. Until I realized I had been dragging this memory around, and understood his comment said way more about his insecurity and far less about my worthiness. So, many years later, I let go of a resentment that never served me.

What are you carrying around?

If a boss or coworker didn’t treat you well, can you forgive them? If you didn’t get the job you really wanted, can you try to see how the result was even better for you? If you failed to stop a loved one from making a bad choice, can you accept they’re on their own path and you are powerless to control it?

It can be hard to do this. The lure of resentments is strong. But the resulting freedom from dropping the rocks out of your backpack is so worth it – and necessary – for your growth and peace.