I was packing for a trip tonight and I couldn’t believe how much anxiety it caused me. I am only going away for 1 week, but the “what if’s” kept pouring into my mind. What if I get cold? What if I decide to go hiking? What if it rains?
And then I thought, I would probably be fine in one dress and a sweater for the entire vacation if I really wanted to be. If I really put aside my fear of not packing enough, or the right stuff, everything at the end of the day would be OKAY.
I want to get to that place. The place where I don’t get over involved in the details with 5 lists, panicking, packing 10 clif bars. When did I become like this? Is this a woman thing, a control thing, or a living in too much excess thing? Do we have so much already that we don’t know how to go without a full wardrobe until we are lying drunk somewhere on a beach?
It got me thinking about the madness we create for ourselves. All I know is if you hand me a glass of wine in the middle of Mexico, I won’t give a flying f*ck what’s in my suitcase. Heck, I might even spill it on my favorite blouse and laugh. Maybe we all just need to pack our suitcases drunk and surprise ourselves when we arrive at our destinations. That might be more fun.
I leave with you with a song while I unpack half of my clothes.
Bon Iver – Beach Baby
I’ll send you a note in a bottle…
- Estella Grace