on packing light
As I am writing this I am sitting on a rooftop over-looking a valley of red clay tiles covering roofs that trail their way down the Portuguese hillside to the marina that sits at the bottom of Lagos.
It’s one of the first quiet moments of reflection that I’ve had since we left the US only a week ago. I grabbed my laptop and left Kyle to his own devices (quite literally) and headed for the most peaceful spot in our shared apartment to pour out the thoughts that have been living rent free in my mind since we left the States.
Leaving still feels like a blur. A flood of emotions. A storm of packing…
Our shop.
Our house.
Our cars.
Our suitcases.
Deciding what to keep and what to toss or sell.
For weeks leading up to our departure, I struggled with this pang of feeling wasteful. I felt guilty going through cabinets and closets and looking at all of the stuff we had acquired over the years. Just sitting there in semi-orderly stacks on shelves and in drawers.
It was just stuff. But stuff that had value at one time- whether monetarily or emotionally. It was hard to just pitch everything even though I knew rationally we’d be gone for a year (or possibly more), and it would end up costing us money to store.
It wasn’t until we were a few short days away from leaving our home, when I had finally reached my IDGAF phase, and I opened one of the junk drawers in our kitchen and went to town.
Until I hit a collection of magnets that we used to display on our fridge when we lived in Illinois all those years ago. I picked each of them up as my mind wandered aimlessly down memory lane.
Kitschy magnetic souvenirs from several places that we had been together.
Magnetic Save the Date invitations to friends’ weddings.
A magnetic name tag from Carteret Street United Methodist Church.
Things we were taking with us that couldn’t be packed physically but were just as real and just as heavy.
It’s funny when it comes to things.
They’re sometimes hard to shed and let go of, but none of these particular things could come with us abroad. I could literally hear the conversation I’d have with Kyle later defending my decision to save these small objects that honestly, wouldn’t make a difference if we decided to keep or not. As far as space was concerned. I could see him playfully rolling his eyes at me pretending it would be such a major inconvenience- like they wouldn’t fit in our 10 x 10 storage unit.
Kyle and I made it a point to pack extremely light for this venture- a single backpack and carry-on roller bag each. Stuffed to the brim with the things we couldn’t live without for 365 days.
We had to be intentional about every item we put into our bags and neither of us had much, if any, room to spare. Packing our suitcases together and remembering those magnets, made me think about the mental baggage that we all carry. And what we were mentally bringing with us on this trip.
Concerns about loved ones we were leaving behind.
Concerns about family falling-outs that remained unresolved.
Concerns about friendships that may not be there when we get back.
Concerns about if we were coming back.
These were things we were taking with us that couldn’t be packed physically but were just as real and just as heavy. Things that we had to make the conscious decision to leave behind or else all of the fear and thoughts of the unknown would have kept us grounded.
We’re only a week in, and while I am so, so, so enjoying myself, little moments of worry keep popping up, and like a magnet, pull me from the present. Reminding me that those concerns are still at home on the soil of another shore.
Waiting for me to get back to them.
But until then, when I look out over the most breathtaking sandstone cliffs in Portugal, when I breathe in that soft oceanic air into my lungs, when I hear the chatter of passersby in tongues I can’t decipher, I am brought back to the here and now, and I remember why we’re doing this and what brought us here to begin with. And that magnetic pull in my mind disappears. For now anyway.
About the Author
Hi I’m Jess. Jessica. Hemby. Mangano. Joyful. Call me by whichever, and I’ll answer.
My husband, Kyle, and I are two 30-somethings traveling around the world in one year together. We began in September of 2023 in Lisbon, Portugal.
Our goal is to use this space to share our memories, photographs, and thoughts on the many places we get to see as we abroad.
Follow our journey on Instagram, Facebook, YouTube, and Twitter.
