The Stuff We Carry With Us

Posted on by Wynne Leon

A couple of days ago my five-year-old son, Mr. D, wanted to join me when I took the dog for a walk. He loaded up a red wagon with two buckets and a tire pump and was ready to go.

We passed our friendly neighbor who was out washing his truck. Mr. D said, “Hi, Frank.”

Frank smiled and asked what the wagon was for. Mr. D answered, “Dog poop.”

At which point Frank’s eyebrows raised comically, he grinned big, and he pointedly looked at our golden retriever. Cooper is a big dog, but not that big.

In Mr. D’s defense, it’s hard to know what to carry with us, isn’t it? I think of the huge bags I carried when my kids were babies. If I could have packed the kitchen sink to make sure our hands were clean, I would have. On the other end of the spectrum, I think of how carefully I packed when heading out for a mountain climb.

There are five categories of things I often carry:

Something for others: My dad always carried change for anyone that needed it. I tend to carry fruit snacks – usually for my kids but they work for other people’s kids and hungry people in general.

Something for myself: A lipstick or chapstick can be a nice balm in the middle of a storm. A note from or picture of someone that loves you can provide a smile. I’d bet that even in the backpack of the most minimalist climbers I’ve met, I could find something that affirms that person and life.

A bit of inspiration: For years I carried a fortune cookie fortune that said, “If your dreams don’t scare you, your dreams aren’t big enough.” It was in the zippered section of my wallet so anytime I’d need a coin, it would give me a micro-pause to check in.

A meaning-making object: A notebook to write things down or a camera to take a picture is often my gateway to making meaning. Whether it’s because it gives me a space to jot notes or because it reminds me of the things that interested me, having something to capture things on the fly is important.

Something to make us less anxious: My kids carry fidgets to squeeze, twist or spin. And while I thought I was immune to this category, I remembered that for years during my divorce I carried around a small gold angel token. And now I find rocks and shells in my pockets that my kids have handed me and remind me of the memories we’ve made. Little physical things to fiddle with that are a touchstone to faith and hope.

Mr. D, Cooper and I returned from the walk empty bucketed. We didn’t find any poop on our walk. I told Mr. D that was okay – it takes time to figure out what sh…stuff to carry with us. I bet even Frank with his big pickup truck would attest to that!

(featured photo is mine)

You can find me on Instagram @wynneleon and LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/

I co-host a storytelling podcast featuring authors and artists with the amazing Vicki Atkinson. To tune in, search for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Spotify, Apple, Amazon Music or Pocketcasts (and subscribe) or click here. Or the YouTube channel features videos of our interviews. Please subscribe!

My other projects include work as a CEO (Chief Encouragement Officer), speaking about creativity and AI through the Chicago Writer’s Association, and my book about my journey to find what fueled my dad’s indelible spark and twinkle can be found on Amazon: Finding My Father’s Faith.

34 thoughts on “The Stuff We Carry With Us”

  1. Oh this is both precious and humorous. Mr D is well prepared for all kinds of shit to happen in our days!

    I love how you found the analogies and connections with life itself through this small moment in life. Love it!

    Hope you all enjoy the rest of your week. A sleepy Tuesday morning commute over here!

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  4. Some of these are gems and all are wonderful, Wynne. Beethoven also carried a booklet to jot down musical phrases that came to him. A very different award winning book by Tim O’Brien is “The Things They Carried” about the Vietnam War.” Unfortunately, those things were all unpleasant memories. But I hope everyone carries a picture of someone they love, and someone who loves them.

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  5. I’ve never taken stock of and categorized what I carry with me each day when I leave the house. This is a wonderful take, a way to see where your priorities are.

    It reminds that years ago in blogland occasionally we would share photos of what was in our purses. Just dump out the stuff and start talking about it. Ahh, such innocent times.

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  7. I love mr. d’s bucket, something he felt was important to the walk. we all carry things with us to help us along, to feel safe, to remember, to reset. this reminds me of the things that young children in my class would bring to feel all of those things, and now you’ve inspired me to write a post about it! I’ve carried this story within me, and now your post will help me to share something I’ve wanted to say and lighten my story load. ❤ love this post

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  8. Fortune cookies pack more wisdom into their fortunes than anything else I can think of. Even Snapple caps. Yours was a good one!
    And I get wanting to be prepared. Wagon, check. Bucket, check. But why the pump?

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      1. Well that makes sense. More sense than one of you trying to balance doggie doodoo on a column of air while the other traps it between the two buckets. What kind I say. My mind goes to unusual places when left on its own.

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  11. Mr. D. is mighty savvy-and conscientious! Your post’s message reminds me of how women’s purses were getting as huge as a gunny sack, but now are-once again-getting smaller. I guess we figured out we don’t need as much. 🙂

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  12. Love this Wynne. Mr. D was prepared. 💞 I’ve been ‘freeing’ myself from carrying more than I need. Like other moms and grandmas, I used to carry way more than necessary to be prepared for every situation. Now that I carry nearly nothing, things still turn out fine.

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  13. That is so cute. The red wagon with buckets to pick up poop. I’m sure your neighbor got a big laugh. I enjoyed your list of what you carry. I always bring water and I agree with the chapstick. My brother pulled a red wagon around our neighborhood in Snohomish when he was in kindergarten. I’d be sitting on a child’s chair in the wagon at age three wearing a princess dress. We were playing homecoming. We were in Snohomish High School’s Homecoming at age three and five and got to sit next to the queen during the parade.

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      1. Thanks! I have pictures of my brother and I at homecoming and in the parade. But none of us replaying it in the neighborhood. Only memories. Maybe that will be a future post.

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