The Cost of Carrying Alone

Over the last two weeks things have been busy as we approach spring break. During the final pose, a yoga teacher asked a question to reflect on. Like most of the questions she asks, it was simple on the surface but difficult to answer:

What would you change if you didn’t have to carry everything alone?

The question was framed in the context of community and supporting one another. At first, I thought about it practically.  If I didn’t have to carry things alone, I would probably start working with others, sharing strategies, dividing responsibilities. That made sense, but it still felt incomplete.

When I tried to connect the question to my personal life, especially relationships, the meaning shifted.

From my own experience, carrying something alone in relationships…, well, it can really trap me inside my own mind. My thoughts circle around themselves, and it can feel like a negative halo radiating outward from me. In that state, I withdraw. Instead of engaging with the world or with people, I become trapped in my own interpretation of things. One cost of carrying things alone is time, time spent in those loops rather than in connection.

Time was only part of the cost. In my case, the cost was larger. Carrying things alone also created distance in my relationship. Eventually, the distance became too large to fix.  I can see how staying inside my own interpretations created separation. What I experienced as independence may also have been isolation. When things are carried along for too long, connection has less space to exist.

Today I attended the last part of a meditation session and the dharma talk. Ajarn Bryan spoke about the Four Foundations of Mindfulness. During the discussion someone asked about ego and the mind, and it made me think of a question of my own. I asked how I could disregard my ego. From what I learned from my psychology professor many years ago, ego is often described as the aspect of the mind that forms self-identity. It helps define how I exist in relationships, in family, and in community. Without it, I wondered, who would I be?

Ajarn Bryan explained that identity itself is not the problem. In fact, some sense of self is necessary for navigating community. The issue is when ego becomes the source of suffering. Ego can exist, but it doesn’t have to control how I react. In many ways, it comes down to causation, how certain conditions lead to certain outcomes.

This idea connects closely to karma, the principle of cause and effect. As I have learned, karma is not a punishment, rather, it’s about lessons learned. Looking back, I can see more clearly how my past experiences unfolded through this chain of causes. Ego played a role. I wanted to be someone. I wanted to be seen, recognized, and loved. Those desires became tightly tied to my sense of identity. My grip on them became so tight that instead of bringing fulfillment, they brought suffering. My ego and grip on control ultimately cost me grief.

During a walk this evening, I couldn’t help but notice the lawns in my neighborhood. One was perfectly green with no weeds at all. Another was yellow and overtaken by weeds. These lawns formed a spectrum across the neighborhood. It made me think about control and how much of it we really have. Can we really control a lawn? What effort, maintenance, and intervention would it take to keep it perfectly green? And how much struggle or frustration might be involved in trying to maintain that level of control? As a homeowner, I would say that trying to maintain an acceptable lawn requires both physical, mental, and financial strengths.

Back to the yoga teacher’s question: what would I change if I didn’t have to carry things alone? My answer might not simply be about sharing responsibilities with others. It is also about loosening my grip on control and identity. Carrying things alone often means believing that I must manage every outcome, interpret every situation, and protect my ego from being threatened.

Maybe the real change is allowing myself to step out of that isolation, to accept support, to see my experiences, and to hold my identity more lightly. Maybe the real change is recognizing that I’m not meant to carry it all alone.

A person carrying a heavy backpack on a long, empty path