I’ve never been good at packing lightly. This might come as a surprise to people who see the minuscule size of my luggage. I haven’t checked a bag on a plane, train, or bus since 2003. That fall I overpacked when I studied abroad in Florence, Italy. I brought a big backpack on my back, a small pack on my front, and I wheeled a big suitcase and a small one. Then I discovered that they sell shampoo in Italy, too. And clothes. Beautiful clothes.
I can’t remember now what I thought I needed badly enough that I should schlep it on a three-month international adventure. What I do remember is how liberating it felt the second-to-last week I was in Italy when I took myself to Venice for the weekend with just my guide bag. Its contents I do remember: guide book, wallet, comb, toothbrush, toothpaste, extra pair of underwear, extra long sleeve shirt, cell phone, camera, and keys. These ten items became my ten essentials for travel. All my subsequent packing has started with this core set of necessities.

a weekend in Italy in 2003 with just a guide bag (and the water bottle I picked up along the way and carried along with me)
Three months of exploring Italy taught me that I needed very little to get around and that the less I brought the freer I would be to explore. The thing was, I didn’t pack lightly. I packed densely. The bag I brought was tiny, but it was full. When I pack a bag, I do pack it. When I load up a car it’s a game of Tetris. I think compression straps and bungee cords may have been invented with me in mind.
Since then I’ve fit my sleeping bag (and its liner), my work boots, my Carhartts, and everything else I needed for a week-long service trip into a carry-on bag. I packed mostly the same stuff for the three-week core curriculum for Yestermorrow’s Certificate in Sustainable Design and Building. (I discovered one doesn’t need more stuff for three weeks than for one.) I’ve done two-week vacations to Denmark, South Africa, and Benelux (Belgium, Luxembourg, the Netherlands) with a carry-on. My favorite was probably my two-week trip to Thailand with an “overnight” bag. (You know, the one you put over the handle of your wheeled suitcase.) Granted, I did bring a few extra things back and that required picking up a new bag at the night market in Chaing Mai. But everything I brought along with me to Thailand in the first place fit into a very dense cubic foot of luggage.
I’ve employed similar dense packing strategies at home. I discovered I can put my plates inside my pie pan so they’re all easily accessible. I’ve added temporary shelves to my permanent shelves to maximize the space. I’ve placed hooks strategically to take advantage of vertical surfaces. I’ve added drawer dividers so I can keep things organized and fill each drawer to the brim. I use my space uber efficiently, so as long as I can cram one more thing into the space I’ve allocated for it, I figure I’m doing okay.
I guess that’s why My Things Challenge has been such a challenge for me. Whereas I’ve been a minimalist when it comes to space, I haven’t necessarily been a minimalist when it comes to stuff. For instance, I’ve felt good about keeping my clothing contained to a single dresser, but I haven’t stopped to question whether I will actually manage to wear all eight tank tops during our measly short version of a northwest summer.
Space and count are both quantitative measures, of course, but they ask me to measure differently. (I do try to focus on quality, too, owning fewer but nicer things.) I think I like dense packing better. I like having my container and the freedom to fill it with whatever I can make fit inside. But I’ve found the 100 Things Challenge an interesting game. It has made me consider my possessions differently and it has helped me eliminate some of the clutter so I have a little more wiggle room inside my drawers and cupboards. It’s given me a little extra space to let something else into my life. I’m leaving room for more of life’s souvenirs.
I had wondered if it would be possible to pare down my possessions to the degree that you have done.
But now I’ve spent two weeks house-sitting in a place far from home, and it’s really been amazing. I can’t say that I’ve missed even a single physical item. I’ve missed my family and my pets, but nothing else.
I brought more than enough clothes and toiletries. And I feel as if I’m existing lightly in this house, filled with stuff that belongs to someone else. I’ve been cooking in the kitchen, but not to the extent of using much of the equipment.
It’s been an interesting experience.
Hi Diane,
Isn’t it an interesting experience to stay in someone else’s space and realize that you really need very little? Of course, it doesn’t feel the same as being home, surrounded by the things that are familiar. But I find my travels, especially when I’m couch surfing or staying at bed and breakfasts, help me to consider what is most important.
Lina
Now that I’m back home, I will say, I would soon have missed being able to wash and dry my clothes at home. Laundromats are an option, but not a terribly convenient one. : )
Oh, I suppose it depends. I don’t mind much since I’ve found a great laundromat. But this is certainly a personal choice and some people really prefer to have this creature comfort close at hand!
Just caught your blog. lovin it! I just started on my own tiny home.
Hi Tyler,
Thanks for your encouragement and congrats on your build. Are you blogging, too?
Lina
Pingback: You Can’t Take it with You | | This Is The Little LifeThis Is The Little Life
Pingback: The Minimalist’s New Clothes | | This Is The Little LifeThis Is The Little Life
Pingback: What My 200 Things Challenge Taught Me | Tiny Homes
Pingback: 5 Weeks in A Carry On | This Is The Little LifeThis Is The Little Life
Pingback: How to Travel with Just a Carry-On | This Is The Little LifeThis Is The Little Life