The Symbolism of Leftovers
I recently had dinner with a friend in a quaint, waterfront community. Being portion-conscious, I had part of my dinner boxed up to go. After eating, my friend and I took a long walk up and down the lake’s shore.
It was a beautiful, balmy night. The sun was mostly gone and the lights of the evening reflected brilliantly off the water. Couples snuggled on benches, mothers walked their babies in strollers and joggers pounded by with their skin glistening in the summer heat. The walk should have been perfect, but was marred by one thing: my box of leftovers.
As I walked along in conversation with my friend, that box became more and more annoying. I shifted it from hand to hand, lifted it up and down. Nothing I did with it was comfortable.
Our lakefront loop lasted about two miles. We decided to sit for a while and visit some more. Next to our stone perch was a garbage can. Without thinking about what I was doing, I threw my box of leftovers into that can. Suddenly, I was uplifted, liberated. My hands were free from the burden of that box and so was my mind. I no longer had to think about new ways to hold or position the box to be comfortable.
In reflection, that box of leftovers symbolized the leftover burden I carry every day. The burden of work and family and of feeling less than perfect. The burden of carrying extra weight and constantly trying to find a way to be comfortable in my skin.
The simple act of throwing that box away freed me from that particular burden and made me realize that I have the power to release anything that weighs me down. From now on, when I worry excessively about work or my family or my weight, I will take those unproductive thoughts off my shoulders and dump them where they belong – with those leftovers.
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