Having just emerged, both bruised and squashed, from my regular morning ride on the L train, I am forced to ask: "What are we all carrying?" Have you noticed?

I had found myself next to a man who needed two precious spaces on an already overcrowded car, one for himself and one for the very fat backpack he was wearing. As I headed down the Union Station platform to the R train I was roundly whacked by a woman who was squeezing between me and a permanent girder and who failed to allow sufficient passage for both herself and the huge shoulder bag she was toting.

I had already passed a kindergarten-sized child with a Barbie backpack that hung down to her knees. How many cookies was she bringing for lunch or was she just an adult in training?

That occasioned a flashback to a trip to Switzerland many years ago where I visited the kennels where St. Bernard dogs were still being trained to rescue the lost and frozen in the Alps. The vivid image that came to mind was of the puppies with tiny flasks strapped under their chins. The trainer told us that since the adult dogs were sent out with a flask of brandy strapped on to revive the icy lost, the puppies were trained from the age of a few weeks to be carriers also, the little flasks gradually growing in size until the adult dogs considered them a natural part of life.

Some of the wee warriors I meet have their backpacks on wheels, urging us pedestrians into that little variation on the two-step that we have all learned to keep from being upended by trailing baggage.

What are we all carrying, besides our lunch? When I got to the office I checked my own bag. There it all was: the umbrella from last night's rain, a book to fill the waiting moments, the newspaper I had just bought, a subway map of New York for me and for the tourists who ask questions, cell phone, hand lotion, lip balm, my wallet, pen and pencil... It does fill up nicely, doesn't it? So much of what I carry is not for immediate use but for possibly needy moments in the future.

And, as I surveyed it all, it was only a small step from pondering my weighable baggage to considering the other "stuff" we all carry.

What have I got in my spiritual carryall? Some little—or big—grudges, some workplace pique, a kindness I have failed to return, a long overdue thank you, some future plan that needs tweaking, a postponed phone call that should have been made...

As I nurse my physical bruises from today's subway ride, I think it is time to lighten my briefcase lest I bruise someone else! But at the same time I could also clear out my spiritual knapsack.

What about you? Shall we declare a "lighten the load" day and sort out the loads we need no longer carry?