The tiny house movement is one that I’ve been following casually for the past few years since it first reached my consciousness. I’ve always been intrigued by the idea of living life uncluttered, and at no point does my desire to do so become more evident than when I’m packing.
Packing really teaches us a lot about the difference between “want” and “need.” Trying to fit an entire summer in as few suitcases as possible is a daunting yet somehow appealing task. There’s something exciting about seeing just how little you actually need to get by. I always feel a sense of accomplishment when I am able to distill my life down into just a few cubic feet of material. And sometimes it makes me want to just hit a big “Reset” button and throw out everything that ISN’T packed in my suitcase so that I can start from scratch and only own what I really need. Each time I travel it seems I try to push the boundary a little further, almost like an adrenaline junkie who needs to jump off a slightly higher cliff every time to get that same high.
But you know what I’ve figured out? Whatever you pack, it works out. I think that we, as human beings, don’t give ourselves enough credit sometimes. We are one of the most adaptable species on the planet, and have taken over the planet (for better or for worse) based entirely on our ability to take what we have and make it work.
So I know I’ll make it work. Whatever I end up cramming into my purple paisley suitcase will be enough for me, and if it really isn’t, there are stores in Rwanda. I think that sometimes in packing we forget that. Wherever we are going, there are probably other people living there too, and they need things like shampoo and clothing and towels.
But if things end up a bit too heavy in my case, I get slammed with extra baggage fees. Oh, well.