“We tend to overpack. If it does not add value to your life journey, don’t bring it along for the ride.”
― Anthon St. Maarten
I’ve just returned from a vacation, and while I’ve always been an overpacker, it was painfully obvious on this trip ― painful, because my shoulders and neck were screaming at me after lugging around a backpack and suitcase that were at critical mass.
I don’t change outfits three times a day. Still, my bag was bursting with items I didn’t need. Since it was a cruise, my cabin didn’t have much room, and this time, it was a reality check that might finally get me to change.
Most of the trip was at sea in the North Atlantic, with stops in Iceland and Norway. Other than a volcanic lagoon swim, it wasn’t about beaching it, so the strappy sandals and three pairs of sunnies were a mistake.
I wear reading glasses, and have several pairs around the house because I tend to misplace them. Two would’ve sufficed — I brought six. Same with clothing. A 10-day trip does not require 15 T-shirts.
I did manage to leave the partridge and the pear tree at home, but I briefly considered bringing an inflatable pool noodle. Honestly, I was in the deep end of delusion when packing for this trip.
It can’t just be me, so I have to ask, why are we like this?
Is it about control? Perhaps. We know we can’t control the weather, delays, spills, or surprise events, so we go into “just in case” mode to keep from feeling out of control.
I will never understand how I can wrap my head around considering packing snorkel gear “just in case” on a trip that doesn’t involve a beach. Also, packing extra sunglasses doesn’t guarantee good weather, so we have to let go a bit.
Is it about being prepared? For what? More often than not, the one thing I need is something I don’t have, like a tissue, or a pen. Most of the time, all the extra crap we lug along with us is just that: extra crap. On the average vacation or business trip, nothing more than the basics is ever truly necessary, and unless you’re headed for a deserted island, you can pick up what you forget.
Perhaps it even has something to do with ego. Do we think we’ll save the day somehow by having a rubber band, a straw, and some gum? That only worked for Richard Dean Anderson on “MacGyver” — it is time to put that fantasy to rest.
How much do we carry around on an average day, physically or otherwise? My purse is full of what they used to ask for on that old game show, “Let’s Make a Deal.” Bits of string, matches (I don’t smoke), paperclips, bobby pins, and playing cards are often in my bag. Monte Hall is no longer with us and I am no MacGyver, so the bag needs a major edit.
Even my to-do list is overpacked with things that will never get done. I should look at everything I’m carrying and decide whether it stays. Most of it can go, so that’s going to be my goal: to eliminate that which doesn’t serve me.
So far I have done that quite a bit, but I’m still not fully there. Finding a way to pare down to just the essentials is about more than just bags, so it will be a long process for me. Still, I have managed to organize my purse, and the glove box in my car no longer holds a Milk-Bone, a can opener, or my mixtape from eighth grade. I’ll take that as progress.
Brenda Kelley Kim has lived in Marblehead for 50 years, and is an author, freelance writer, and mother of three. Her column appears weekly.