The moon is full tonight. Your boat rocks with the motion of the waves, and you think, "This is just as good a place as any." Bending down, you lift the anchor to throw it overboard and park the boat in this spot. But as you turn to the railing, something happens. You are startled. You are bumped. You fall over the edge.
You gasp involuntarily as your body hits the water. It is so cold. So bone-chillingly cold. Your body begins taking in water as it sinks under the surface. You sink lower and lower, defying the natural buoyancy your body should have. It is then that you realize... You are still holding the anchor. And even as it goes through your mind, you still can't let it go.
How far will you sink before you pry your hands off of the very thing that weighs you down?
Is it things you've said in the past? Things you've done? Do your mistakes ring in your ears?
Is it the things people have said to you? Misunderstandings and bitter words? Are they a tape that runs constantly in your head?
Is it people you've loved and lost? People you've wronged? People who have wronged you?
Whatever your anchor, know this... Anchors are meant to weigh a vessel down. How long will you allow yours to weigh you down before you can finally let it go?