They're your problems. Don't just give them away. They were given to you and you've been carrying them with you for so very long. They're virtually heirlooms. From some invisible grandmother to the other and on down the meandering line to you. The stones you trip most over. Right there on the foot path, or there in your backpack. Never seen the advantages of being lighter. Or the light of day. Visibility, the hand crank of self-knowledge, stands out in a crowd. Stand on top of it, but hold them near to you. They belong to you. Until you say otherwise. To anyone.