More than two decades ago, I worked for a small, family-owned company in Mississippi. The owner—a proud Cajun transplant from Lafayette, Louisiana—was more than just my boss. He became the closest thing I had to a father. Though he’s long since passed, his voice, his wisdom, and his stories echo in my life almost daily.

One story he shared often—and one I’ve carried with me ever since—involved two old friends: Mr. Thibodeaux and Mr. Boudreaux.

These two men had been inseparable since elementary school, living across the field from one another for most of their lives. Their wives quilted, their children played, and the families shared meals, milestones, and memories for decades.

Some time ago, Mr. Thibodeaux borrowed a posthole digger from Mr. Boudreaux to repair a section of their shared fence. As always, Mr. Boudreaux happily lent it—this kind of neighborly help was common between them. But months passed, and one day, Mr. Boudreaux needed that tool back to plant some trees.

So, he set off across the field to retrieve it. As the sun beat down and the walk dragged on, something started to shift in his mind. His pace quickened, not from urgency, but frustration.

“He probably lost it,” he muttered. “Or loaned it to someone else. He never returned it because he doesn’t care. Why’d I even lend it to him? He could’ve bought his own. He’s probably avoiding me because he broke it…”
Step by step, his thoughts spiraled. By the time he reached the porch, sweat dripping and irritation boiling, he was no longer walking toward a friend. He was marching toward an enemy his own mind had created.

He pounded on the screen door. Mr. Thibodeaux opened it, smiling warmly—only to be met with a scowl.

“I didn’t need that dang posthole digger anyway!” Mr. Boudreaux snapped before storming off, leaving his confused friend in stunned silence.

The moral?

It’s simple, yet powerful:

We often carry the weight of imagined wrongs, unspoken expectations, and distorted thoughts—then unload them onto others without cause.

How often do we let our minds convince us of stories that are askew?
What are you carrying?
Are you lugging around resentment, assumptions, or misinterpretations? Have your thoughts ever led you to react before knowing the facts?
We all do it. Our thoughts shape our perceptions and drive our reactions—often without realizing it. But that doesn’t mean we have to keep letting them.
So how do we drop the weight and walk lighter?

Here are some practices that may help:

• Check your thoughts.
Are they based on facts, or fears? Challenge your assumptions and ask if they’re actually true.

• Listen to understand.
Open your heart to different perspectives. Respectful dialogue often reveals there’s more to the story.

• Practice empathy.
Step into someone else’s shoes. Understand their motivations before projecting your own interpretations.

• Challenge negativity.
When skewed thoughts creep in, pause. Ask, “Do I have proof of this, or am I making it up?”

• Be mindful.
Learn to recognize your mental patterns. Mindfulness brings clarity, helping you respond rather than react.

• Control what you can.
You can’t control others, but you can control your own attitude, reactions, and mindset.

The more we cultivate self-awareness, empathy, and grace, the lighter our emotional load becomes. We stop lashing out based on assumption and start connecting from a place of truth.

I have been reminded of this story and shared it dozens of times since it was shared with me all those years ago. So today, I challenge you: travel light. Release the unnecessary burdens you’ve been carrying. And if you’ve got a metaphorical posthole digger lying around, maybe it’s time to return it—and restore a relationship.

© c. michelle bryant griffin
© ai image created by michelle bryant griffin