In the unnerving and unsettling process of choosing which items of all that you own, that you can’t possibly do without for 3 months you make some strange decisions. But in the high anxiety state of preparing to go away and leave all the comfortable and familiar, these decisions seem all consuming and so integrally important to the success of said future trip. The items, and the decisions that need to be made about them, seem to be the only tangible thing you have any control over in relation to the future months ahead. They are your only connection with the future. All future successes rest upon them?!
But once on the road, how inconsequential these items seem. I have every wish to leave them all behind entirely and walk away with just the clothes on my back, my camera and a notebook. Packing seems to be a process of accepting what we have and what we’re leaving behind.
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