The hardest part about travel, in my opinion, is packing. The task of fitting an entire life, or at least a couple of weeks of one, into a carry on bag is daunting.
And frustrating…
And annoying…
I am a creature of habit. I was raised by high level hoarders, and by that I mean to say they did not simply keep and collect random shiny objects. Everything had purpose and value, and most of it was given to them by their ancestors. So, not unlike the Queen, they were merely custodians of their ancestor’s Sh..uff. The house was a museum of artifacts. Entirely different from hoarding.
Except the stuff they bought, kept and intended me to be the caretaker of. That was hoarding. Whomever thought shag carpeting and lime green chairs were a good idea should have their fashion license revoked.
But the point is, things have value. Only the value you assign to the thing, but value none the less.
I am not oblivious to the fact other people and places have things. Retail establishments exist around the world, so if a need arises, I can purchase things. There is no need to take everything I own when I travel, obviously, but there is a trade off when contemplating what to pack.
Be prepared for anything is a lofty goal often related to the tolerance of one’s muscle development and the regulations of airlines on how much can go up without making the plane come down. Taking items on a trip is expected, customary and vital to saving money and not being naked. Planning for culture to climate helps limit items. I do not need a parka in Bali, nor a bikini at the North Pole. Yet even with existing, intelligent limiters on what to pack, the line between prepared and clinical insanity is not thick.
So where to start? Clothing is a must. Don’t want the world to faint from awe when they cast their gaze upon the natural beauty I possess.
Give me that one. I’m in the middle of a mid life crisis, you know.
Medications are important if one needs them to live. Then the all important phone, but that is glued to my hand, so a given.
Then things get complicated.
Really they got complicated when I decided to go somewhere outside the comfort of my chair, but I like to challenge myself.
Do I really need 8 pair of pants? I am going to be gone for 3 months. I am going to be in different climates. Dressy, daily, sweats…
What about a towel? I think I need a towel. Just in case I get wet or something.
Inflatable pillow since I don’t have room for my normal pillow. I would make the sacrifice of a smaller air pillow for space because pillows can be big, yet important.
Shoes… 3 pair. Or 4. I only own 8 pair of shoes and usually only wear one… at a time at least. But what if something happens and I need different shoes. I like my shoes.
It will be a long flight and when I get there I may not like the food, so snacks. Less expensive to bring those along and I do like to eat.
Walking sticks, cameras… I will only bring half my cameras. That should save space. So 4 cameras, but only one really big lens in case I see a lion and want a picture of the nose hairs.
Do lions even have nose hairs? Whiskers, yes, but I have never been close enough to look for nose hairs. I might need a bigger lens.
I will need to blog, and take pictures, and never know if I will have power, so power banks. Big enough to charge a laptop, and another small enough for a phone and fit in a purse. Spare batteries. Almost forgot those…
They are not going to let me, nor my luggage on the plane. Even if I do cram everything into the luggage, the weight becomes an issue.
I can reduce to 2 spare pair of shoes. Cut the pants down to 6 pair. 3 short, 3 long. I will reluctantly leave half the snacks behind. Maybe I can leave one of the jackets
Crap. Still doesn’t fit.
Oh it fits. Just not efficiently or lightly. I am a master level Tetris packer. It will fit, I promise you that. Yes, I know… just because it fits, does not mean it should.
Through my life, I have danced the delicate packing ballet between prepared and able to move. I am better than I used to be. I do realize I can buy along the way and if I forget something, it is not the end of the world. Unless it is tickets, passport, phone…
Yet this dance of indecision is the base of personal growth. When I was a child, it was vital to carry a stuffed animal everywhere. I lost emotional control if denied my needs.
okay, bad example since my travel buddy for this trip is a stuffed lion. I will, however maintain today’s lion is the size of my hand and fits in my carry on instead of needing to buy it a ticket on the plane. Progress has been made.
Today I stand before a mound of stuff and examine the bigger questions, with emotional balance intact.
I am able to exquisitely balance panic, fear, apprehension, anger and bewilderment on a taught tightrope of anxiety. Just more proof I have grown as a person.
Am I secure enough to leave things behind and take chances without? Am I confident enough that I can move forward into new lands without the safety net of things I cling to? What is the question, and what is the answer, which will allow me to free myself from the stuff I am stuck in, and move on unburdened, and free to experience fully the adventure before me? Perhaps the best question, and the one I struggle with most is what is the least amount of stuff I can carry with me and maintain my confidence in unusual situations?
Of course, none of those questions are relevant if I cannot carry the stuff. That’s the true measure. I will pay extra for elevators and bell hops. Just putting that out there.
Every trip is different, as every day is different. This trip is completely new territory for me. I need everything. I need security and safety of my things to be able to step out of the comfort and into the world, but it is the comfort that is holding me back.
So, I will unpack again. I will remove a spare charger, or perhaps a pair of underwear. I will add another packing cube and rearrange my batteries. Might eat one of my trip snacks, then I will repack… unpack… repack… until I either must leave or I get comfortable with what I need to take outside my comfort zone.
Whatever does end up in my luggage, I wonder if it will prove valuable enough to me to take it to the other side of the world. I can’t wait to see if any of it will be worth bringing back.
