The free table: it’s the stuff of legends on the World Race. At debriefs and times the squad meets up for travel day, this magical enigma appears. On a designated table, you place anything that you don’t want to carry to the next country. You are also free to take anything from the table that piques your interest.
I dropped a few things on the free table before leaving Africa: one pair of gym shorts, my sleeping pad (I had bought a smaller replacement), a pillowcase, and my fleece zip-up. In return I picked up a hat, t-shirt, pair of pants, and pair of basketball shorts.
Now I had made a rule for myself that I couldn’t take something from the table without leaving something. The one thing I hadn’t made an exchange for was the pants, and I was feeling a little guilty. I looked in my pack for what I could give up, and settled for my favorite khaki Bermuda shorts. They’re the most comfortable, but still nice-looking shorts I own but I had only worn them once since launch. I wore them all the time at home and elected to bring them along, but I could easily get rid of them since women can’t wear shorts in many of our upcoming countries.
Then I hesitated. They were my favorite shorts after all (not just on the race, but at home as well), and I could probably wear them in places like Thailand or Guatemala. I would certainly like to wear them after the race, and they had been a clearance rack find – it might be difficult to get a similar pair.
So I put the shorts back in my packing cube and gave up. The rest of the day went by as we packed up
our gear for the flight to India, but something about this whole dilemma was still bothering me. I remembered a conversation I had with Kelsey, my squadmate and the previous owner of my “new” basketball shorts. She had told me that she wanted to be intentionally uncomfortable with what she had – knowing that she would have liked to have packed more but didn’t “need” it. That was something to chew on.
That night, we had a session with the leaders of another squad. (Both U and O squads were staying together in South Africa for a few days before moving on to our next countries). They talked about abandonment and what it meant to leave behind the things, both literal and metaphorical, that we had resolved to leave behind when we left for the race. One of the points they hit on was not bringing “home” with you, whatever that looked like. It could mean habits, comforts, or mentalities that belonged at home, not on this unique, foreign, experience that really isn’t about you anyway.
Now I’m not about to send my laptop home, never contact my family, or refuse to drink coffee. I’m not going to guiltily punish myself just because I’m on the race – these things in and of themselves (in moderation) aren’t the problem, it’s the mindset we attach to them: The idea that we deserve comfort.
This session stuck with me, first because I was annoyed at what I perceived to be a harsh shame-fest, berating our squad for being petty. Then I took a chill pill, got some interesting insight from my squadmate Lyndi on submitting to authority, and quit being bitter. I knew I wasn’t going to have to make myself miserable for the sake of the race, but I did need to keep moving forward in the areas of abandonment, my attitude towards being “all in” on the race, and depending on God rather than myself and my 40-pound backpack.
And on the subject of comforts of home, what symbolized that better than my beloved Bermuda shorts? (After all, I was carrying them around with only a slim chance I would wear them). I went back to the free table that night and left them there.
Don’t store up your treasure on earth, and for that matter, not in the pockets of your favorite shorts.
