Tuesday 31 May 2016

Secret to Happy - Carry your own bag

Lessons that carrying my own stuff taught me 


When I first went to India back in 2005 I was travelling with my husband. We'd packed up or sold everything we owned, quit our jobs and headed to India, as so many people do in search of an adventure.

 A couple of days after we arrived my back started to hurt, and so I handed my backpack to my husband and he - lovely guy that he is -  carried it for me for the next 18 months – from India through Sri Lanka, Thailand, Malaysia, Cambodia and eventually into China.

This January I returned to India, without my husband and I carried my own bag. And honestly - it changed everything for me-  I can’t recommend it enough.


That red backpack there - that's mine & it's awesome

I love travelling, on my own, with friends and with my husband – I enjoy tramping around unknown streets to find somewhere to stay, somewhere to eat alongside the locals, to people watch or to have a drink. One thing I’ve noticed over the years is this: the more self sufficient I am when I’m away – the more I enjoy myself. 

I’m not saying we should always go everywhere alone. Being by ourselves is valuable, but so is sharing experiences with other people. Different things will feel right at different times and that’s ok. But I am saying that when we decide to be dependent, physically, emotionally or financially on another human being it’s going to negatively impact on the way we experience our travels. It certainly did for me.

So it’s no exaggeration to say I fell in love with my backpack this time round. When I planned the holiday, I was worried my skin had got too thin for India. I knew that I was older than last time I went, and was also less fit. I knew I’d be climbing on and off buses, and hunting for hostels whilst carrying every single thing I had with me on my back. And I would only be away a month - I didn’t want to waste a single moment of that time resenting my possessions. So I packed light and I packed sensible, and as a result every time my bag needed to go on a high shelf it was easy to clamber up onto a seat and lift it up there. 
Walking from the train stations into towns was very little effort. I even got to the point where I could unthinkingly hold my balance in a squat toilet with my fully packed backpack still on (maybe not an image you want to conjure up – but something I’m bloody proud of none the less).

And that made me feel really positive about my body, which was unexpectedly still sturdy enough to allow me to clamber around with my stuff on my back, without aches and pains despite having spent most of the last 10 years sat at a desk under strip lighting.

Here’s what I got out of it: I felt powerful knowing how much I could carry but also how little I needed. I felt brave and I felt independent, and I realised no matter how sweet it is to get doors opened for me or my bag carried –  that having someone else ‘look after’ me doesn’t make me feel any of those things.

Carrying my own bag gave me back a sense of what I could do on my own, and of the opportunities that were available to me if I would only reach out and grab them. Not things gained for me by the kindness of others but by my own tenacity and strength. I’ve been home months now and that sense of being able to do anything and go anywhere on my own still hasn’t left me.

And as a bonus – that new confidence in my independence and self-sufficiency made the time I spent with other people on the trip better too. 

The friend that I was away with is also a really keen and independent traveller. We had intended to see how it went on the trip and give ourselves the option of going our separate ways for days or weeks depending on how we got on. And we had such a good time we ended up hanging out together for the whole trip.

I think the reason we found it so easy to be together for the whole month was because of both of our determination to carry our own weight in every possible sense.

And that was a part of what I realised was missing from that first trip. When I cheerfully handed Matt my backpack I wasn’t just robbing myself of a feeling of strength, independence and possibility. But I was robbing Matt of the sense of being free of dependents, able to make brave choices, and of the choice to leave behind anything he didn’t want to carry (ie every bloody thing I was carrying) – and that’s a shame. Because travelling isn’t just about getting a sense of a new place. It’s about getting a sense of ourselves in it. A sense of who we are as individuals without our stuff, without our support networks or the people we in turn care for. 

So here is my advice. Next time you have a chance to explore somewhere new – push yourself to find a way to depend on yourself as much as possible – do you need that lift from the airport, that loan of cash so you can stay somewhere a little nicer? Or would you have a happier more life affirming trip if you proved to yourself you can negotiate those buses, and live within your budget. Imagine how you’ll feel when you realise that on your own you were able to carry what you needed, get where you were going and sleep the deep and happy sleep (no matter how poky your room) of someone who’s explored their own potential and found that they can do more than they ever expected.

Because for many of us travelling is about knowing who we are when we are in freefall. And it is easiest to do that alone. But it is also possible to do it in company – just as long as you carry your own bag.

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