Traveler, Not Tourist: Rule 3

3. Pack Light

I keep all I own in a pack

And have neither excess nor lack

For when on the road

I must carry my load

and have learned it’s not worth the sore back.

As anyone can attest, whether traveling or not you tend to accumulate more stuff over the course of your life. If you don’t believe me, you probably just haven’t cleaned out your closet lately. I learned this fact about myself over and over, every time my family packed up and moved houses or when I packed up to head for college (or when I packed up and came home from college).

Thankfully, during the year that I graduated from high school, I got to go and listen to the incredible message of Shane Claiborne at the Urbana Conference. Shane is more or less a modern Ghandi in that he’s given up nearly all his material possessions and lives off the bare minimum in order to serve God. It’s a tall order, to be sure, but his story has stuck with me over the years and really impacted the way I view my possessions.

So every now and then, especially after any sort of shopping spree, I started to go through my belongings and really gauge how important they were to me. That doesn’t mean I threw out everything based purely on utility (I still have random stuff like a model ship and a jade elephant that have nothing but decorative or sentimental value), but I did everything in my power to rid myself of a little excess here and there. And by ‘rid’ I mean gave to other people that might actually use the things I gave up: I used Goodwill, family, friends, and a fantastic little college invention that our dorms had called ‘Free Tables’ where excess possessions were left for whomever desired them (seriously, some of the best clothing in my wardrobe came from Free Tables — not to mention probably $100 worth of laundry detergent).

Because I really don’t need multiple types of one thing; in the end I always end up picking favorites anyway. Jeans, iPods, snow shoes, whatever. If I haven’t worn or used something in over six months, I keep an eye on it. If another six months go by and I still haven’t touched it, then it’s time to say goodbye. If I’ve done just fine without it for a year, I can easily scrape by if one day I ever actually ‘need’ it (or something like it, which is usually what I end up using).

This little practice (I suppose you could call it ‘purging’) was what got me through college without driving myself or my family crazy. Even after accumulating more stuff over the course of a college year, I could still pretty much fit everything that I owned into a single vehicle whenever it was time to pack up my life again. (Of course, after I got a free couch the whole ‘single-vehicle’ thing wasn’t always an option, but you get my point.)

So what does all of this have to do with traveling? Well, just as I narrowed down my needs and favorites little by little, so too can you learn the practice of packing lightly. All you have to do is challenge yourself to pack at least one less item than you did last time. Went to the beach with two pairs of flip-flops last time — one fancy and one casual? Cut it down to one pair. Brought a pint-sized bottle of shampoo for the last weekend getaway? Buy a travel-sized bottle, or an empty one that you can fill yourself. Better yet, use a two-in-one shampoo-conditioner just on the trip (it’s not like it’s going to matter if your hair is slightly greasier just for the trip; traveling is always grimy anyway). Brought an iPod and a kindle and a laptop on the previous flight? Leave one out this time.

Because there are honestly two ways of packing: the first is to say, “I might need this.” But the second says, “How bad would it be if I needed this, but had left it behind?”

Some trips might require an umbrella, like if you’re staying in a hotel on a business trip. But if you’re just hanging out with family for a casual weekend, who cares if you get wet some afternoon on your way through a parking lot?

I’m most guilty when it comes to packing for long plane or car rides, because I always think I might want to read that book or draw that picture or write that story. But honestly, most of those activities tend to make me queasy and I end up either sleeping, listening to music, or maybe fiddling around on my laptop. So books no longer go into my carry-on — if they make it on the trip at all. In fact, I’ve honestly stopped packing even my sketchbook on trips most of the time, because I’ve gone on many journeys where I didn’t end up using it. And should the mood to draw actually take me, chances are wherever I’m going I can find paper.

And do you know what happens when I stop packing all those random sources of diversion — my movies and my books and my phone games and my deck of cards? I end up seeking entertainment in… get this… my surroundings. I end up (gasp) talking to people, or (the horror) enjoying the scenery, or just spending hours on end thinking (no, please, anything but that!). (And take note: the more people you’re going to be around on your trip, the lighter you can pack. People are the greatest source of entertainment in and of themselves.)

I’m not saying this to mock those of you who turn to digital amusement — sometimes on a long plane ride, all my fried body and mind can handle are the bright colors and delightful “ping”s of Candy Crush on my iPhone. But my point is that when we human beings encounter lack, we adapt and make due. We find some alternative to our first course of action when said first course of action is made impossible.

And you know, sometimes that long ride or that summer afternoon doesn’t end up as nice as it could have been if we’d brought that book or that puzzle or that DVD. But other times, we’re delightfully surprised to find that it’s even better. Sometimes we become friends with a total stranger that was sitting next to us on that plane… or in our boredom we may turn to our loved ones for conversation, and end up learning a new card game — or better yet, inventing a new card game. Maybe we’ll hear the deep stories of their past… or maybe we’ll tell them ours. Maybe we’ll spot a bear lumbering by the highway while everyone around us battles the next level of Angry Birds. Maybe we’ll think up the next great American novel.

Sometimes that extra possession is worth a sore back… but some times, when we leave it behind we can get by without hardly thinking about it, and even make new memories in the process.

BACKSTORY: (As if 90% of the above post wasn’t already a backstory in and of itself…) Last year just after the fourth of July, I ended up taking a last-minute trip to Illinois for the weekend to be with my dying grandfather and family. The whole story is an incredible one in and of itself, but a funny little side-story to go with it is about what I packed for that trip.

You see, at the time I was traveling with a mobile day-camp for kids (think Vacation Bible School on wheels. And steroids). As such, I was already touring the American south for the summer, with little more than a heavy-duty plastic trunk and a backpack stuffed to near-bursting. I hadn’t started the trip with too much to carry, but as I said before — you travel, you accumulate. And I was accumulating plenty. So when I packed for the weekend, I decided to drop off whatever I didn’t desperately need with my family. But I also had been living so light that I realized I would only be gone for about two days, and I really wouldn’t need gobs of entertainment on the plane or at my grandparents’ house.

So I showed up in Illinois with nothing but a draw-string backpack and a dinky little cardboard box [half of its contents being objects that I wouldn’t even be taking back with me]. Talk about comedic — it took some people about three repeats of “Where’s your luggage? Whaddo you mean that’s all you brought?” before it sank in that I hadn’t brought an actual backpack or suitcase.

This year I got to repeat that same light-packing challenge when I went to a friend’s home for the Fourth of July weekend. I didn’t have a cardboard box this time, but I did manage to fit everything I needed in that same little drawstring bag and a nice sturdy satchel.

So what’s my bare-minimum-packing-challenge-end-goal? I’m not sure. I suppose I would one day like to hike the Camino de Santiago in Spain, which is basically a pilgrimage across the entire country (though it will be absolutely no fun by myself, so I’m hoping for a grand merry band of loved ones to join me on the trek).

But as for my daily trips and packings of the now, I’m not sure when I’ll reach ‘peak-minimalism’. I feel like I can’t pursue the challenge much further without foregoing essentials like toothpaste… but don’t worry, I won’t get that crazy.