Traveling Light, It’s a Skill
What It Taught Me
I learned to travel light almost two decades ago.
It has become my metaphor for living well.
Once upon a time, I retired early from a wonderful career in education. I was fifty-four years old.
Shortly thereafter, I sold everything I owned. House, cars, personal possessions and began an adventure. My children were out of college. I had no debt.
I was free.
My goal was to live everywhere but nowhere for a few years. A nomadic lifestyle that required walking or using public transport and carrying with me as little as possible.
Once I set out on this big adventure, I soon began to realize that hauling stuff all over the world with me was really a burden. That realization followed the eye-opening experience that I had prior to going on the road when I sold all of my worldly belongings.
First, I had to sell the house.
That was the easy part. I loved our house. We’d built most of it ourselves, raised our two kids there, and enjoyed an array of pets. It was pretty special sitting on five acres of land surrounded by trees. We lived at the end of a gravel road that turned into a logging trail that ran three miles through the woods behind us. It didn’t take us long to sell it.
Next, I had to get rid of stuff.
After having lived in the house for decades, we had a lot of stuff. First, I sold my antiques and gifted some family memorabilia to a sister. Then, we held an open house and invited friends, neighbors, and relatives to attend. They did a sweep of our house and if they saw something they liked, they offered me a price.
I accepted any price that was offered.
The rooms were looking pretty sparse but there were still things to get rid of and that’s when a local auctioneer made an offer on a fair percentage of what was left. There were things that nobody wanted, however, and those things went to the dump.
Whew!
We had 17 small boxes that we shipped to my mother-in-law’s house for storage in her heated garage. We sold both of our cars and headed to Spain.
It felt great.
We were offered a good price for the house and tucked the money away. Once I got this nomad bug out of my system, we planned to resettle close to our son and wife.
But first, we wanted to roam unencumbered.
Little by little, I began to reinvent my approach to packing for a trip, too. I started out with a large piece of checked luggage plus a carryon. I soon learned that checked luggage was an impediment to traveling comfortably.
I then mastered the art of fitting everything I needed in a carryon.
I realized that wherever I went in the world I could buy shampoo, sweaters, shoes, you name it. I didn’t need to bring much with me. I also learned that I didn’t need a lot of clothes. Several pairs of pants and a few shirts could be swapped and mixed and washed and dried for daily use.
If you’ve ever flown, I’m sure you’ve seen how burdened down travelers quickly become with too much luggage.
Not me. Upon arrival, I grab my carryon with wheels and I’m off and running through customs to stand in the queue for a taxi.
I lived in Spain, Ireland, Mexico, the isle of Saba, Portugal, England, Malta, Prague, Scotland, and thrived.
I usually stayed for 90 days which is the allotted time permitted on my passport without a visa. I also had favorite places that I returned to more than once. I’ve returned to Ireland five times and Spain even more often.
At the end of four years, I relocated close to where my son and wife live, two weeks before the birth of my only grandchild.
I continue to winter in Spain, however, to this day. I keep an apartment in a small Spanish fishing village and return there during the winter months.
I usually rent apartments.
I shop where the locals shop, cook many of my own meals, and rarely rent a car. I use public transport and walk. I walk a lot. At the end of the first seven months of nomadic living, I was the fittest I’d ever been.
Besides the fact that I had a million experiences that I probably wouldn’t have ever had without being a nomad, I was continually reminded that simple is highly underrated.
It seems that humans are wired or conditioned to make life complicated for themselves. If there’s an easy way to do something or a hard way, we tend to choose the hard way and then complain about it later.
So, we collect too much stuff, too much debt, too many social commitments, too many pets, and too many plans.
We fill our lives with unnecessary problems and then feel overwhelmed by all the responsibility that we’ve taken upon ourselves. It’s a vicious cycle. We forget how to breathe and how to live in the moment. It takes its toll on our state of mind and our health. Often, we have no idea why we bought something or promised to do something.
We just did it and lived with the consequences.
Traveling light is my metaphor for living well, but even I will fall back into old habits if I’m not careful. One must be quite deliberate and intentional in order to keep things uncomplicated.
Although I’m not a nomad any longer, I discovered that I was well suited for living small.
I miss my nomad days, but I’m so grateful that I got to experience living everywhere but nowhere with nothing more than a carryon suitcase of personal possessions.
In my opinion, traveling light is just another word for freedom.
Teresa is an author, world traveler, and professional myth buster. You can find her books on Amazon.
