Reflections on: Perceived Necessities

As I sit down to write the first of several long-overdue New Zealand updates, I glance back at previously written & unfinished blog posts in my folder.  One catches my eye; “Perceived Necessities.”  “Hmm, I wonder what I was writing about there,” I ask myself, and open it.  As soon as I begin to read, the applicability of the topic makes me laugh.  “When did I write this,” I wonder, and see that it’s dated over a year and a half ago.  I left it unfinished, & thus unpublished, but now I think it will serve well as a little background to what I’ve gone through more recently.

February 2011
I move often.  In past 2 years, I’ve moved 5 times (including this time).
Every time I move, I have to reconsider what to bring & what to leave, and what will happen to the things I leave (storage, give away, loan).
I keep a lot of stuff.  Question: if I’ve kept it for a year & not used it, will I really use it in the future?  Too often, can’t bear the thought of permanently parting with it.  Question: if I don’t need it now or in the next year, why did I buy/acquire it in the first place?  Was it necessary?  Are there things I perceive to be necessary NOW that a year from now I’ll wonder why I spent the money on them?
Unfortunately, I’m such a planner & back-up-plan person that most of the time my answer is “I got it because I needed it then, I don’t need it now b/c I’m in a shared/family household, and I will need it again later when I’m on my own again, or married.”  And then, of course, there are the boxes of memorabilia items that would otherwise be trashed except that they remind me of various good times.

…That’s as far as I got with that post, but I’m sure I was about to launch into the difference between perceived and actual value of belongings, and refer to journal entries I had written about watching movies where people have one or two hours to grab their most important possessions (& only as much as can fit in one bag) and flee the country to save their lives, and contemplating how difficult that may or may not be for me if it ever came down to that.  More on this later.

November 2012

In case you’ve missed the memo, one month ago I flew to New Zealand for a year-long working holiday.  I was moving out of my apartment in Flagstaff and anything I kept was getting stored in Tucson.  Once again I was facing the “I’m moving, so what do I take/leave?” dilemma, but this time the “things to take with me” list couldn’t be the familiar “what fits in the car,” list, but rather the “what can I take on the airplane” list.  

Additionally, as the writing above indicates, I had long been contemplating how many of my possessions are really worth putting into storage.  The alternative?  Sell them & have the cash on hand.  Whereas previously this idea didn’t take root very easily for me, now being faced with a year (or more?) abroad & knowing I’d need all the cash I could get, I found new motivation for this course of action.

Thankfully, I was able to sell a sizeable handful of things in Flagstaff.  Sadly, not enough.  So what I could fit in my car, I took down to Tucson in hopes of selling it there the week before I flew out, and what couldn’t fit in the car got left behind for roommates to use or sell.  In Tucson, I tried to advertize things on Craigslist, but it’s such a big city that my post got pushed to the fourth page of results within 24 hours, and I didn’t stay on top of updating it.  So my Mom is mercifully putting up with a bunch of my things sitting around that I had really hoped to get rid of before I left.  Maybe I’ll still be able to find buyers if I repost my ad.

Anyway, many people have asked me “how much are you taking with you?”  Before I packed, my answer was “just what I can fit in a backpacking pack, a regular backpack, & my computer bag.”  With those limits in place, I sorted through my clothing & gear and decided which items were multi-purpose enough to be justified (a year’s worth of Sabbath & nice-occasion clothes consists of one black skirt, one pair of black slacks, a handful of shirts to mix & match, a wrap skirt & 2 dresses), or which items were specific-purpose enough to be justified (things to hike in, things to swim in, things to rock climb in, things to work in, appropriate shoes for each case, etc).  Once my packing was complete, my answer was “too much.” 

5.8 lbs too much, to be precise.  Which I found out at the airport.  I figured I’d be over the weight limits before I left the house, but I couldn’t think of what else I’d leave behind, so I decided I’d just bite the bullet & deal with it.  When I checked in & the agent weighed my backpacking bag (the regular pack & computer bag qualified as my carry-on & personal item), it was 5.8 lbs over 50.  So the agent asked if I’d be able to take anything out & put it in my carry-ons (no, they were stuffed to the gills) or if I could trade heavier items in my checked bag for lighter items in my carry-ons.  The difficult part about this idea was that I had been as strategic as I could with putting all my heaviest things in my carry-ons to start with, so there wasn’t much available to trade for lighter weight. 

I asked her how much extra I’d be charged. 

She looked it up in the system.  She called an agent from the other airline I’d be transferring to also.  Then she looked up at me with the total; “$150.” 

Whoa!  I was prepared to pay $30 or so, but not $150.  I asked her if she was serious. 

She was. 

I asked her if I had time to TRY and see what I could do. 

She said I did. 

I stacked my bags against the wall near her desk, & started pulling things out. 

She weighed some stuff for me so I knew what my target was. 

I tried to figure out how that plus a little more could trade with something in my carry-ons. 

She dealt with the next customer in line. 

I continued trying to identify the items of proper weight & size trade-ability. 

She noticed how carefully I had packed things.  

I worried I’d end up late for the flight, but didn’t say anything & kept trying to reorganize. 

She had pity on me, came over, leaned down & said quietly, “just go ahead & put it all back like you had it.” 

I looked up with grateful hope in my eyes & asked, “really?”  

“Yeah,” she replied, “just make it look like we did something.” 

“Thank you,” I said, almost in a whisper.  And she handed me my boarding pass.

Upon arriving in New Zealand, I was then faced with standing in line for quite a while to get through customs & immigration.  I didn’t have any problems getting through, but there were just sooo many people, I was in line for a long time.  And had plenty of time to look around at all the other travelers and evaluate how much they had with them.  Some people made me feel proud of myself for being able to get everything so much tidier than their bags looked.  Others made me feel an unspoken camaraderie as I could tell they were doing something very similar to me.  And still others made me feel like a total newbie at this, as they were clearly experienced adventure-travelers who had gotten the hang of traveling light.

Upon getting picked up from the airport & taken to my first temporary dwelling, my greetings of “it’s so good to see you!” also included “girl, what did you pack!?!”  For my first two weeks, I felt like I had just the right amount of stuff with me.  I was never lacking for what I needed, and anything I wasn’t using yet, I trusted I would somewhat soon-ish.  Then I took a week-long trip, & took everything with me.  Yes.  Everything.  And suddenly, it was more than “too much;” it was now ridiculous.  

All the same stuff from the first photo, but now "exploded," as my car travel didn't need to be as strategic as airplane travel.

The next trip I took was three days, and had a very specific purpose & set of activities.  I successfully packed only the regular backpack & my computer bag.  And I still didn’t even use everything.  My sense of necessity was finally being pared down.  And now, I’m on a two-week-long trip.  This one involved a plane flight, and I was limited to carry-ons only.  Once again, the backpack & the computer bag.  And neither is stuffed to the gills.  Sure, there are things I wonder if I will wish I had brought.  But there’s also a little feeling of freedom in my lightness.  True necessities are actually quite simple when you get right down to it.

Often, as I contemplate actual vs. perceived necessities, I find myself recognizing how privileged I’ve been to grow up in the country & socio-economic environment I have.  Media of the past 50 years has made the world a much more know-able place, if you open your eyes to it, and I’ve seen how “humble” the majority of the world’s population lives.  I’ve also been blessed enough to travel internationally, and experience what is normal for many.  I still recall my trip to Africa, now seven years ago, and all the sights & sounds & smells of that world.  When I spent a weekend in London on my return trip from Ghana, the contrast was nearly overwhelming to think about.

So what about you?  How honest with yourself are you about your necessities in life?  When you sit in your home & look around, do you find yourself feeling like you really do need most of what you have?  Or are you able to distinguish between perceived necessities & actual necessities.  If someone told you right now that your life was in danger & you had one hour to pack a bag & flee into hiding, how easily would you be able to identify the things that really mattered?