“How much longer?” I ask. 

Silence.

I’m trekking through a beautiful rainforest at the base of Kilimanjaro, Tanzania. After training for six months, I’m exhilarated to be here. But, now my enthusiasm is overcome by a growing sense of fatigue. While everyone else seems to be marching on jauntily, I’m slowing, slowing, slowing down. 

I keep asking Kajeli, the guide – How much longer now? When do we get to the camp?”  

Finally, Kajeli looks at me with a sense of pity. 

“Let me carry your backpack for you.”

No, no, no! I protest. 

Within 20 minutes I handed over my backpack to him. Dejected but also relieved, I picked up the pace. 

 

Only carry what you need.

The next morning, I wake up refreshed. I’ve resolved to do better. To be better. 

Kajeli singles me out: “Hey Eva. Make sure you only carry what you only need for today’s hike, yeah?”

Okey Dokey. 

I pack my bag to be as light as it can be. I sit on a small tree stump with my nearly empty backpack at my heels and a big smile on my face. Then… I see him approaching.  As one of the lead guides, Kajeli is walking around with that sense of busy importance. He spots my bag and carries it.

Frowning, he exclaims: “I thought I told you to pack light. Empty out your bag! Now!” 

A little ashamed, I begin to unpack. Piece by piece. I place each item onto the rocks next to us. I keep sheepishly looking up at Kajeli; convinced he is going to start smiling again. 

But Kajeli isn’t happy. He is squinting. 

There is something silver glinting at the base of my bag. 

“What is that at the bottom?”

I reached down into the deep cavern of my backpack. 

“It-It’s just a pack of gum,” I mumble. 

“Out! Out! Out! – Everything out.” Kajeli yells. 

Once we had Every. Single. Thing. out of the bag – he looked at me with stern patience.

“Okay. Now. You are only going to put back that which you can’t do without. Start with the water. Then, your lunch box. Rain jacket. And medicine. That’s it.”

I did as he said. I zipped up my bag and looked at the rock. There was the innocent silver pack of chewing gum, the journal, pencils and the small tube of body lotion. It didn’t seem like a lot of stuff. It would’ve been nice to have them along with me…just in case. 

 

Was Kajeli overreacting?

I felt humiliated by Kajeli’s reaction. I grumbled under my breath, kicked a few rocks and trudged along. Although, that soon changed. Over the next few hours, I realized the wisdom of what Kajeli already knew. 

On a long trek, every single little ounce of baggage that you carry adds up. 

You see, in the morning, bellies full of food and bodies refreshed from a night of sleep – the bag feels light. But as the day wears on… the hours of walking add up, the sun takes its toll… you become weary. That’s when every little ounce seems to exponentially increase in weight. Heavier. Heavier. Heavier.

The more tired you get, the heavier the load seems. In other words, it makes sense to start your journey with the lightest amount of baggage. 

 

Kajeli taught me minimalism

As the years pass, I understand more and more of the lesson Kajeli taught me on the mountain.

Take only the essentials.

Take only the essentials.

Take only the essentials. 

Now, here’s the tricky bit – it is genuinely difficult to know what is truly essential. This is as true in packing your bag, as it is in life. What is really essential? How do we define essential?

In the last four years of my nomadic life,

I have asked myself this question a lot. What STUFF is really essential to my life? Most of the STUFF we think we need… Well, we don’t. I didn’t come to this conclusion as a result of deep philosophical thought. Nope – it was just pure logistics. Living out of my suitcase, moving from one corner of the world to another forced my hand.  I didn’t have any space in my bag – so I stopped carrying things around.

Now here’s the important part. When you realize you don’t need too many things; well your life’s priorities change. This set off a chain reaction: 

• When you don’t have any space to carry stuff with you or a home to keep your stuff; you realize you don’t need so much. 
• When you realize you don’t need so much – well, then you stop buying, consuming and spending money. 
• When you stop buying stuff, you have less need for money 
• When you don’t have to work so hard for money, you can have more time for yourself to read, write, exercise, be in nature and just be. (This is only applicable if you don’t have to take care of any dependents)
• When you have more time to be – you live with greater vitality and vibrancy.

Ultimately, when you aren’t carrying around so much stuff, you feel lighter in your body, soul and heart. You have more time and energy to engage with yourself, friends and family – because you simply don’t have so much stuff to take care of. 

 

Minimalism as a life philosophy.

Minimalism isn’t just about stuff… It is about everything in your life. Minimalism is such a phenomenal philosophy. It’s a great way to reduce the harm we are causing each other and the environment. 

So you start with getting rid of things. And soon you start to ask yourself… do I really need these:

• Experiences?
• Relationships?
• Thoughts?
• Emotions?
• Lifestyles?

 

You question your past and present. You wonder:

• Why am I holding on to relationships which have fizzled out? 
• Why do I continue to keep in my mind these thoughts, emotions or ways of thinking? 
• Why do I let in these harmful junk TV shows, movies and social media? 

 

Can you be a minimalist?

If your life situation is different from mine – this article may rub you the wrong way. That’s not my intention. I don’t think everyone should sell their life’s possessions and live out of a suitcase. Not at all. We need to have materials in our life and enjoy them for the convenience, pleasure and connection stuff can and does bring into our lives. 

Nevertheless, I do think we all need to be MORE intentional about how we consume and acquire stuff. 

The world we live in is constantly selling things to us. Without noticing it, our subconscious is being worked on by movies, television, ads and social media. We keep receiving messages about how unworthy we are. We are promised to have a better sense of self-esteem and love…if only we can buy it. 

How can you interrupt this messaging? How can you become more aware of your reaction to the constant stimulation of capitalism? 

Here are a few questions to consider:

• How can you think critically about what you are buying? 
• How can you challenge the narrative of necessities? 
• How can you turn yourself OFF from the constant barrage of advertisements?
• Can you unsubscribe from ALL newsletters that are constantly shoving products and services down your throat? 
• Can you cancel so-called loyalty cards and credit cards that use pressure tactics to get you to buy more?
• How can you avoid ‘sales’ which make you believe you’re making a ‘saving’?
• Can you turn down the influence of TV shows, social media and those movies which glorify materialism? 
• If you do watch TV, can you silence commercials as soon as they come on? 
• Can you limit the time you spend inside shopping malls so you are less susceptible to external influences?

And when you need something, can you make do with a used product? Can you first ask your friends and family if they have something lying around that will be just as good? And do you really need that thing…? Can you find an alternative within your home? 

Ultimately – before you consume something, I invite you to ask yourself a question.

DO I REALLY REALLY NEED TO BUY THIS? IS THIS REALLY NECESSARY? 

 

The slow gradual journey into Minimalism 

While some are shocked with the way I live my life, most people who’ve known me…aren’t. They’ve seen the series of events that got me to this point. At the height of my earning potential in Dubai, the seeds of discontent with materialism were beginning to show.  Since then, it’s been a slow gradual descent into getting rid of more and more and more of my stuff, priorities, conceptions, ideals and dreams. The more rigor I weed my life with, the more I realize what is truly important to me. 

If anything within this essay resonates for you – I ask you to bring some compassion for your life situation. You don’t need to sell your stuff or live in a sparse studio apartment with a single bamboo toothbrush on the lip of your bathroom sink. No, it takes time. Start slow. Be gradual and intentional with how you look at your materials.

This isn’t just about Marie-Kondo-ing your home. It is about readjusting your ‘needs’ – so you can spend more time being. 

You might just find you don’t need to earn such a large salary or that you can make do with a lot less. Of course, for so many people – that isn’t an option. It is expensive to exist in this world – especially with many hungry dependents on your shoulders. 

But, be honest with yourself. 

Do you really NEED as much as you think you do? 

And, when it comes down to it…what do you really need? 

Be cautious and relentless.

Remember, it all adds up. 

Remember, even a tiny pack of silver chewing gum can weigh you down.  

Remember, only pack the essentials. Only the essentials.