“You carry your fears in your pack…”

I’ve done quite a lot of reading in preparation for Mi Camino, and this wisdom nugget was shared from one sage hiker to a novice gumshoe.

The things we fear the most – cold, hunger, boredom – it is these things we pack against. An extra sweater, additional snacks, a book or two; surely these few ounces won’t add significantly to pack weight.

Tonight was one of the steps of this journey I’ve feared the most – the night when the items that haven’t quite earned their sure spot in the pack will be weighed and set aside…or should be. I can’t tell you how many times I picked up the small roll of duct tape, studying its weight and size before setting it back down in the probably-no-but-just-maybe pile, just to move on to my headlamp, and to the bandages, and…and…

My packing list has been ongoing since March. I’ve always had a penchant for being prepared, even to the point of ridiculousness. Carrying a tube tent in my fanny pack every time (I mean every time) we left the house? Yes. That, and various bandaids, an EpiPen, tissues, a mirror, scissors, tailoring supplies, a knife (or two), two compasses, etc. I quit this after Y2K was bygone, but really just changed my habits from a fanny pack to the back of my car, which now holds slightly more than the list above.

But I can’t carry all my fears on this journey.

I have to face them.

I’d hoped that pondering and thinking and lots of planning would simply shed the pounds from my pack and allow me to take more. I was hoping to avoid the sacrifice, the honest appraisal of what I need vs what I want.

Bathroom scales dash lots of hopes, don’t they?

I won’t starve. I won’t freeze. I won’t even be in the wilderness. If there is something I really truly need, I can purchase it.

But I’m not afraid of missing something I truly need.

I’m afraid of missing something I think I need; the things that make me feel useful; the things that make me comfortable.

I had originally packed 4 different types of tapes; now I’m down to 2.

I had 3 light sources, 2 whistles, 8 doses of various medications. I’ve whittled these down.

All the manuals and the books have their own guidelines for what the ideal pack weight should be. Common suggestions are no more than 10 kg or 10% of your body weight. I am barely inside the first value, and well outside the second.

My stomach turned to knots when I stepped on the scale. I’d only shed 2 pounds through my efforts of the evening, and felt I’d stripped down to the very barest minimum. 2 sets of clothing, rain gear, toiletries (one soap to rule them all…except my teeth), sleep gear, sun gear, trekking poles, and Bible+journal.

I swing between shame at my 22 lb pack (skin out weight) and justifications for more weight:”Those books make broad recommendations”, “I am strong”, “I’m pretty light, so the body weight percentage isn’t as helpful”, “My pack itself is heavier because it is bigger; I couldn’t justify buying a smaller one…”.

We all have different bags. We all put different things in them. Most, if not all, struggle with removing items they know think they need. It’s painful to let go of our baggage. We’ve been careful curators of the contents. The things we carry help us to be independent, to rely on none other than ourselves.

Aha.

This is what I fear most.

Loss of self-reliance.

The fear of letting loose completely, trusting that the unknown and unpredictable is ok.

Letting go, letting God.

He’s ready to shoulder my bag, but my white knuckles haven’t loosed from the strap.

Here’s to a journey of lightening my luggage.

Join me?