How to Pack Light

My chemistry teacher in high school had a metaphor that has stuck with me til this day. He used it to describe students taking tests, but I apply to many scenarios.

One day, after giving us a test during a 50-minute “single” period, a student inquired why he hadn’t given the test during the 90-minute “double.” She insisted it was too hard, and that we needed more time.

He calmly informed us that students have the properties of gases, which completely fill the volume of the container that they are in. Whether you have one quantity of molecules in a jar or double that, the gas will evenly spread out.

Students, whether given 50 or 90 or 900 minutes on a test, will take the full length given, with minimal effect on grades. Thus, students are like gases.

I loved this analogy and began to apply it to other, unrelated situations. One of which was how people pack for trips.

How to Pack for Trips

I always packed light for trips. I spent three weeks in Japan, hopping from hostel to hostel, train to train with nothing but a medium-sized duffle. I spent nights sleeping on airport floors, that very same bag serving as a pillow. It’s possible to zip from Hong Kong to a layover in Beijing to a day trip in Tel Aviv to visit friends in New York and return home to Western Massachusetts all in a few days with adequate planning and a light bag.

I used the same Adidas black duffle for over a decade, zippers all intact and only some thinning indicating any sort of wear and tear. This was soccer bag, a travel bag, an all-purpose bag during that time. Poor guy was thrown on dirty floors in Chinese bus stations. It was hurled into the dusty trunks of Kazakhstani black cabs. It was carried around the streets of a humid Bangkok for 24 hours.

No matter what, I always packed light. If you forget something, you can always go to a 7/11 and *bam* you found yourself a souvenir. Vietnamese boxer briefs or Spanish tooth paste become memories material.

I used to think I had some surreal sense, unnatural ability to pack light, like a preternatural mountain man. And then I realized, it was all the design of a German sportswear maker.

Because my duffle was small, because I was too lazy to buy a bigger one, because the type of travel I love requires mobility and unwheeled luggage, I always packed light.

But when day, when I returned home to the US, I realized that it wasn’t me. It was the bag.

Big Bags Pack Heavy, Small Bags Pack Light

And of course they do. This seems obvious til you put it into practice. I was living in Springfield, Mass while my brother was in Holyoke. This wasn’t a far drive at all, a mere 15 minutes. Sometimes, though, I would crash at his place.

The first few times, Tony made fun of me. “Dude, you used to zip around Asia with nothing on your back. You come to visit me and you’re a pack mule.”

I’d try and justify my actions as I’d drop a backpack, a basket and that same duffle down. Then I’d go to the car, grab a water bottle, a t-shirt and maybe my Nintendo Switch just in case. You never know.

As a stubborn being, I denied, denied, denied like any self-respecting obstinate male will do.

After some self-reflecting that’s when I realized it: packing for travel is also like gases in a container.

How to Pack Light

Step 1: select a small bag
Step 2: put shit inside
Step 3: set expectations low
Step 4: pray

If it’s not exceedingly clear, this type of choice is for a fairly specific type of travel. If you need camera gear, it might not be for you. If you have children, this is not for you. If you have lots of meds or other needs, this is not for you

But the general principles apply broadly.

Theory Behind Packing Light

Constraints bring out beauty.

Cliché determined that art is limitless. Art is anything. Art is creativity unbound.

I argue that not only is art definitionally limited, it is furthered and more fulfilling because of these constraints.

There’s plenty of constraints in art: sizes, colors, human physiology, language, and so on. Any medium can only go so far. You might be incredible with charcoal, but at some point, it cannot 100% replicate reality. That’s not bad. It’s great.

Have you ever had a creative writing teacher give you an assignment like this: write about anything. And the students are stumped. They are bounded by nothing and yet write nothing. Given a prompt, students spread their wings. Maybe they eschew the general thrust of the prompt for something greater. Perhaps they abide by it strictly. Possibly, they reinterpret the meaning for themselves.

Constraints bring out beauty.

Packing a bag is inherently an activity of constraints. You have a certain volume to stuff belongings in. Do you pack it to the fullest? Pack it partly? Or do you buy a larger volume?

These are the limits, and having limits necessary means you pack lighter or heavier.

You can only have so much luggage. You cannot fathomably have a dozen suitcases.

The questions begs: where do you draw the line? Do you take two 50lb suitcases, or constrain yourself and pack light?

Packing bags is like gases in a container.

Let me know what you think in the comments below. Agree? Disagree? Am I nuts?