Me: Apparently some people save their children’s umbilical cords.
Brandi: My mother saved my stitches from when I was little.
Me: …?
This is a real conversation I had with a co-worker once, and I
just have to say, that people save the most random things. And if you’ve ever
seen the TV show “Hoarders” then you’ll understand when I say that we sometimes
save waaaaaay too many things. I’m not sure if it’s purely an American
epidemic, but we seem to form such an emotional attachment to all of our stuff
and it’s just so hard to let go of things. Even things that have no function
and we’re never going to look at or use again (think stitches and umbilical
cord).
I’ve started laying out things that I want to take with me and
have really begun thinking about the “stuff” in my life. I guarantee that
everything I want to take with me will not fit into my bag, which is
discouraging and rather frightening. However, in the back of my mind, I know
thatwhat I do
manage to take will be far more than most people own at all. So picture this. While
I am freaking out about how to condense my life into my backpack, that backpack
is still going to contain more clothes, more toiletries, more of everything,
than most people own at all.
I know this because my sister went to Central America and had this
realization while she was gone. She came home and informed me of it, and
actually, does a very good job of living minimally now. She didn’t simply come
home and just buy replacements for everything she gave away (props to Shannon).
So I know this in my mind, but it has yet to play out in my heart. It has yet
to become a reality to me.
I’m sure there will be a day on the race that I think back on all
of the stuff I left behind and wonder why I thought I needed any of it in the
first place. I’ll probably return home next year, right before Christmas, and
stare in wonder at the excessiveness of American culture. But as for now,
having not been exposed to anything else, I will continue on. I will continue
to pack my bag to the gills, cramming things in every nook and cranny. I will
endure the smiles from previous racers who know what awaits me. They’ve been in
my shoes. They’ve packed their bags full, only to return home wanting less. But
less is more they say,
and I can’t come home with less if I don’t start with more. And if taking more
means I have that much more to give away when it finally hits me, then so be
it.
