Fear of the Self?

Fear of the Self?

We were walking down a small street in Melaka, Malaysia. The boys were in front of me, and we were all carrying large back packs from our transport to our accommodation.

We were about ten days into our four month trip. I’d read carefully all of the do’s and don’ts but didn’t feel particularly worried about anything. I thought.

Suddenly, I felt someone behind me. I was sure that they were so close I could feel them and my heart leapt. I let out a scream and turned, quickly to see who it was. But they had moved so fast! I turned again, at this moment, truly terrified.

And then, I realised, that the ‘someone’ was my back pack. My luggage.

How’s that for symbolism?

Perhaps, when you're ready, we could, as an option, put our luggage down sometimes, if not just throw it into the rubbish. Just as an option.