May the zippers of your suitcase hold, she wished me …
Anticipation, packing, traveling light (Not even close)
Justification, rationalization, wanting to take more than I truly need, just in case. It will be cold, it will be desert, it will be … ocean, ancient cities, museums … cultural dress code versus personal preferences. It will be Family.
I know this is one of those first world problems I dare not complain too much about. I am fortunate to be able to travel to my daughter’s home. Because she resides in N Africa, I have had opportunity for some unusual travel. I have seen Luke Skywalker’s home, stayed in a troglodyte cave, stretched my hip joints on a camel.
I have also missed out on too of my grandchildren’s birthdays, too many school performances, and too many babysit moments to give their parents a break. So this trip covers my granddaughters eighth birthday, (early Nov) and Christmas (late Dec) with a side trip thrown in. Two continents, three cultures, and how do I pack?
Requests for peanut butter, Craisins, home-school supplies, gifts for family, neighbours, hostess gifts, Christmas items, books and games for grandkids, the list and desires go on. Thus far I have two full suitcases, not including my own clothing or personal items. Can I take my big camera? It’s the shoes that fill the space. What to do?
My sister calls for a final chat, gives an understanding ear to my dilemma, and the quick acknowledgement, that I am not complaining—if I could bring the world to my children I would try.
That is all good to have lofty goals and ideal, but the reality is you still do need to pack, you still need shoes and clothes to wear, she says.
And I struggle to understand the unease of my soul.
Is this the old self-imposed need to meet or exceed expectations—a left-over from the strived for Supermom days, mixed in with the desire to have it all, be it all.
This desire to live the full life, wrangles with the longing to be free from the burden of “stuff.” The hope not to be disappointed, nor to be a disappointment.
And this craving for beauty and serenity in my soul.
And I am reminded of Max Lucado’s book, Travelling Light that I read about half a dozen years ago and don’t remember a single thing about it, except the title. As I pack, I am thinking about traveling light, physically and spiritually.
IS this how I live my life? With only necessities … a self-imposed frugality of spirit? What about those words, of having more than we can dream or think about? I want both the being and the doing.
As I pack I am faced with prioritizing necessities versus wants. It’s been both a challenge and delight to mull through this. After all, in the end, what matters most is how well we love. And that is an attitude I can pack in, carry on, and dispense when I land. And I know in return my own suitcases will be filled with memories unspeakable.
I send this from the airport …. the first take-off of many. The zippers are bulging …