In 2014, after packing most of our stuff in Chicago for out-of-state storage and cramming the remaining needed stuff in our over-packed SUV, strapping our old bikes on the back, we headed west for a big adventure and life change. After distributing some luggage and clothing as well as our car to various accommodating relatives for safe keeping while we traveled, off we went, by plane, ship, train, taxi, bike, and shuttle, in what we thought was a minimalist fashion -- one large duffle each and one rolling carry on and for me one enormous, oversized, shoulder straining purse. This is how we traveled for 11 weeks, visiting South Beach, Florida, Lisbon, Portugal, La Harve, Normandy, Dover, England, Amsterdam, Brussels, Dublin, Ireland, Ireland's Connemara
coast, Glasgow, Scotland, Copenhagen, Denmark, the Faroe Islands, Shetland Island, Reykjavik, Iceland, Oslo, Bergen, Geiranger, and Stavanger, Norway, London, NYC, and then Los Angeles. With just one duffle and one carry on each. Although in all honesty, our bags were not all that light, for more than one taxi driver in the UK said to me, "Did you know the guy?" after hoisting my duffle into a cab trunk. Finally I got the joke -- perhaps, each cabbie was intimating, I was dragging around a dead someone in my bag -- hence the weight. A little UK cab driver humor.
We repeated that same minimalist packing, though much pared down, on our two-month trip from Vancouver, BC to the Hawaiian Islands, Tahiti, Bora Bora, North Island of NZ, Sydney, Adelaide, and Kangaroo Island, Australia, and a cycling trip of the South Island of NZ. The two of us mastered the art of hand washing clothes, frequently wearing the same outfits with minimalist pride, and feeling somewhat superior to fellow travelers who hadn't been on the road (or ship, plane, bike,
shuttle....) for two months yet overpacked.
We vowed to keep up our minimalist lifestyle, buying and using only what we needed, living clutter-free as much as possible, adhering to a simpler, less stuff driven life. After all, we reasoned, life now was to be about gathering experiences not tending to stuff.
And then we moved to Bend and met GEAR.
Of course, GEAR is not a something one meets but more a philosophy, a way of living life.
Our new house came with a garage and soon followed kayaks, a kayak rack, personal flotation devices, paddles, kayaking gloves, dry bags, water proof bags for phones, new bikes, bike bags, bike rack, bike repair kits, water bottles, hiking poles, hiking packs, and on and on. Seemingly, we were under the spell of GEAR.
As though accepting summer gear wasn't, well embarrassing enough, we are now, with a new season, living with the additional failed minimalist shame of WINTER GEAR.
Snow shoes, poles, water proof boots, ski gloves, ski masks, ski hats, ski pants, ski boots, skis, ski jackets, ear covers, more boots than two people can possibly wear and on and on.
Do I really need my long semi-puffy coat with a hood, short wool coat, a long wool coat, a zipped fleece, a zipped ski jacket, a water proof jacket with pit zips? Yup, in Bend, I guess I
do.
As a minimalist-want-to-be how do I square GEAR with myself?
While my fancy urban heels and fine leather boots from a different lifetime sit unworn, snubbed, in my closet, watching as my Keen hiking boots and water shoes, hiking pants and so much more playfully join my almost daily excursions, I remind myself GEAR is part of a new life. We purchased GEAR to support engaging in new experiences.
While the house and our wardrobes may be more minimalist in style and decor, simplified from urban living, the garage is GEAR.
In my previous post, I quoted psychiatrist Glen Gabbard's advice that in one's 60s and 70s, spend on what has been postponed. For us, that means experiences and GEAR.
Happy New Year.
Next up.....how did the year go, where did we go, and looking ahead. Isn't it time for a bed count?
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