This is what my pack looked like a few hours ago. And now I’m slashing whilst whimpering.
Letting go is a hard, hard, hard process.
Like, I figure I’m past comfort, you guys. I’m ready with sleeping bag in pack to face the elements, sleep on floors, and shower with bugs. I’m ready to go without a towel (travel towel!) and a hair dryer and a mattress.
But, my pack still clocked in at 22 pounds.
So I took out the extra shirt. I emptied some of my sunblock. I started my watch now and threw out the packaging.
Still too much.
I pulled away the Bible (“Let it go,” came the whisper, “I will speak in other ways.”).
Still too much.
I pulled out the baby-container of hairspray…my sad attempt at vanity.
I pulled out a few of my gluten-free granola bars. I’m terrified there won’t be gluten-free options in rural Spain…but I do know that God has always taken care of me.
I’m at 20 pounds.
I wish I was at 15 pounds.
Ahhhhhh, letting go.
May I learn these lessons here, in the U.S., where I can return to my stuff and not on the Camino where my only choice is to leave it behind forever.
(Or maybe that is the lesson I’m supposed to learn?)
Oh, Camino!
Are you wearing additional clothing or can you subtract an average of what you will be wearing daily?