I'm sitting in a restaurant with my wife on a Sunday afternoon. Winston's at our feet, gazing at each person that walks by.

It's a new place, the hostess - with teeth that are too white - says they've been around for about a year. We've been wanting to come here, mainly because the restaurant that used to exist at this exact location was an Italian place where Kate and I celebrated our first Valentine's Day.

Coincidentally, the new restaurant's name is just one letter away from the name of a coworker I knew long ago. I was the accompanist for a visually impaired children's choir and she was the conductor. But she was more than that, she was a good friend. She even sang the song for our first dance as husband and wife.

So when I was fired without warning or explanation, it was like being knifed in the back. I remember the sad look in her eyes as she shook my hands for the last time.

She never spoke to me, probably because her job was on the line if she ever opened her mouth. Not that I judge her for it, since she had more to lose than me.

But when the many years passed and the smoke cleared, I thought I might eventually hear from her sometime. I would have gladly welcomed a message.

Nope. Not a peep.

And the years continued to pass in silence.

Then a few months ago, she suddenly saunters into one of my wife's fitness classes. Imagine the awkwardness, both of them doing routines side by side, less than six feet away, without acknowledging each other's presence.

It's not a coincidence, you just think you can sweep it under the rug until ...

... SURPRISE!

The universe reminds you it's still there. A tough conversation you need to have, a gift you've been holding back from the world or a limiting belief that helps you hide.

Why not face that gremlin head on before it becomes a monstrosity too big to ignore? Otherwise, you can move halfway around the world but you'll still have back problems.

What you don’t let go will weigh you down.