What Can We Carry?

What Can We Carry

John Paul Derryberry

I have never owned a truck. But, I like the idea of owning a truck. It's such a convenient form of transportation for a guy who likes to do all sorts of outdoor activities: going snowshoeing, toss the stuff in the back; get all muddy on a hike, toss the things in the back; have a two-person kayak, toss it in the back. You get the idea. So why have I never owned a truck in my life? Because of the unwritten rule, people ask you to help them move something if you own a truck. I don't want to deal with that part of owning a truck.

I have discussed this at length with Anne, my wife. If we do ever purchase a truck, we can each pick four people to put on a list to assist with their moving needs once a year. To everyone else who asks, I will reserve the right to regretfully apologize that we and our truck cannot help you with your moving needs. We all have sat around needing to move stuff and thought to ourselves, who has a truck we can use.

I only want to be involved in the conversation a few times in my life. Why? Aren't you some social-work-helper guy? Yes, I am, and I adore helping carry people's emotional and mental heavy loads. Their physical stuff, not so much. What's funny about that is, I was talking with a professional the other day whose profession is of the physical nature. He said "no thanks" to ever carrying people's emotional and mental stuff. He looked at me and went, "You would rather help someone through tears than moving a heavy desk? Me, I'll go find something heavy to move to avoid feeling happy sometimes.” Other than my natural urge to get this guy to become comfortable expressing happiness, he's not wrong.

We all carry different levels of ability and capacity for helping with other people's stuff. Some of us over-extend ourselves and burn out because we ignore self-care. Some of us under extend ourselves and end up alone because we don't offer to carry the burden of others, even for a step or two. A great example is raising prices during a pandemic, blaming it all on inflation, and forgetting to mention that massive raise you accepted at your large corporation. Couldn't you carry a little less in your wallet so that larger society could keep a little more in theirs?

But this begs the question of what we can carry for others and how long we should carry it? My answer has always been: as much as we can for as long as we can, as long as we can still care for ourselves. Burnout is genuine and not something we shouldn't acknowledge. Just like we should admit when we selfishly ask others to carry too much of our stuff. So my no truck stance is more a way to protect myself from over-helping burn out than at the disgust of helping someone move. The total honesty part of it is because I don't want to move your heavy things. Some day that might change. I might be done helping people with their emotional and mental baggage, so I can finally assist with relocating that Grand Piano you have.