Burden: (n) a load, especially a heavy one.

Being able to define what a burden truly is may be a step toward maturity and a leap in humanity.

We are quick to complain of simple cumbersome circumstances. They are often temporary but we still lodge our formal objection.

Sometimes I don’t understand myself. I am fully aware that the universe does not favor me, yet somehow I anticipate front row seats, flowers at the backstage door and standing ovations for simple tasks.

Vanity is not merely propping up our better features. Vanity is when we believe our features should be sufficient without propping.

What is a burden? Because once we define it, then we certainly know, in the realm of the spirit, our mission is to make it as light as possible.

The burden should be light.

But until we conclude what burdens us, we are apt to invent new definitions for the condition based upon the color of our mood.

For instance, watching the grandchildren one week may be a treasure, but on the following Tuesday may seem to be a burden.

There are times that shopping for a new pair of shoes has the sniff of adventure, and on other occasions, just stinks.

We keep moving the poles, changing the dimensions and re-negotiating our grouchiness.

The true definition of a burden is something which is unexpected but proven to be necessary and therefore needs to be taken in stride as much as possible–so we don’t lose our good cheer.

Yet if we stubbornly insist that life should never sneak up on us, we will constantly be jumping out of our skin at the slightest inkling of evolution.

Published by Jonathan Cring