The biggest teacher in my life has been a backpack. A backpack that holds very little in comparison to the amount of things I own and the amount of things I pretend to need on a day-to-day basis. If my backpack were personified, it would not only have a lot of stories, but would also think I'm a complete moron. It would say, "Remember when you tried to put your expensive lotion in me and it all melted?" or "Don't forget that time you left me filled with granola bars and the squirrels had the best day of their lives."
It would probably scold me saying, "Why don't you get rid of that portable cell phone charger and bring another book?" or "It's 110 degrees, you don't have to cover up every inch of your body, stop being so damn insecure."
There are no compartments for mascara. No place to pack your mirror. And surely, no place for anything neither essential nor joyful.
1. Renewal of Comfort
I struggled with this when I was living in Europe. I came home to blank, white walls with absolutely nothing familiar. I had very little belongings, just what fit in my suitcase and backpack. I would be utterly exhausted after a long day, but felt no comfort in the space I was suppose to call my own. As soon as I was in it, I wanted to escape it. I began sleeping a lot, feeling depressed. When I was awake, I was restless, constantly searching for something: distraction, familiarity and comfort. But I had none.
Eventually, I realized that I had to create comfort because familiarity was obviously nowhere to be found. The first step was I began to read by the river each night. I grabbed a book on one of my favorite topics, this instance specifically, Feminine Mystique (I figured I could also benefit from a bit of empowerment as well). After about a week, that step along the river, next to the ice cream shop that always played Spanish music, became a place of comfort. I was stepping out of my old cycle of comfort and creating a new cycle.
2. Bad Days are Inevitable
While road tripping through Utah and Arizona this summer, a friend and I drove up to our primitive camping site only to get the van stuck. Then after hours of pushing and digging, we set up camp which was soon after destroyed as a sand storm swept across the area. We ran to the car carrying all our belongings, totally defeated. And I was coughing so hard I was vomiting.
In the same day, we found ourselves sitting across from one another bonding over a margarita that neither of us could drink due to dehydration laughing until we almost peed ourselves. And the next day? Life went on, because a bad day does not mean a bad trip.
3. Bring What You Love
I would love to say on a spiritual level, that you need nothing. Only love. Or something. But when I was abroad, I lost my passport. So, turns out, there are some things you need. How I determine what I need is by the phrase.."as long as I can survive." But besides what you need... what do you love? Do you love your favorite Thich Nant Hanh book? Do you love listening to your favorite song every so often? Do you love being able to give something away to people that impact you as you go along? I carry rosaries to give to people. In desperate times, I've given away St. Christopher medals or car decades as a sign of my appreciation for their existence. Bring those things. They're important.
4. Embrace It
There are many ways to tell a tourist from a traveler. Usually it has to do with who stops at the bottom of escalators and who doesn't. But there is another way that I've found to tell.
An example:
When a flight gets delayed
Tourist: throws their arms up and curses in impatience.
Traveler: glances up, perhaps continues to read, or sprawls out onto the ground to embrace the time for a nap.
Another:
Getting on the wrong tram
Tourist: speaks tensely, perhaps even disrespectful to his companion frantically jostling his maps
Traveler: takes observation, perhaps taking note of the stop he got on creating a plan, maybe looks at the map, then, knowing there is nothing else he can do, looks out the window enjoying the scenery.
If you're on a bus, fussing with your map, saying "I told you so," you've not only ruined the ride for you and your companion, you've also ruined it for everyone else.
Your energy is important. It manifests in you, and in others. Do not be impatient or hasty. It's important that we don't carry toxic energy with us. Just embrace it. Embrace challenges or changes of plan. Embrace spontaneity and your ability to flow with it. If something goes wrong, embrace it. If someone makes a mistake, embrace it. It's OK. That's life. C'est la vie.
