The Ritual of Packing

In his book, The Art of Pilgrimage:  The Seeker's Guide to Making Travel Sacred, Phil Cousineau outlines the preparations people of different cultures and religions have made throughout history when preparing to go on a journey or pilgrimage.  Some shave their heads.  Others don specific items of clothing that will mark them as pilgrims upon the paths they travel.  Most seek out blessings from their priests, masters, or spiritual leaders.


He also interviews people from our modern culture about what they do to prepare for a trip.  Some read all they can in advance about the place they are going, or listen to music specific to the country or region.  Others put everything in their daily lives in perfect order before stepping out the door.  Cousineau himself has a 'ceremonial meal', then calls a friend or 'an esteemed elder' who has already traveled to the place he's going.  He says, 'Each of these conversations helped me focus on the upcoming journey and lent each of them a pleasant weight.  For me, they acknowledge the ancient belief that I would not be alone in my travels if I had the blessing of an elder.'


My favorite of the customs he mentions is what he calls 'the Russian way':  once you're packed and ready to go, you sit on your luggage for half an hour.  This way, you not only have thirty minutes to relax before you leave, you can use that extra time to figure out whether you've forgotten to pack something.


Moving as often as I have serves the purpose of keeping me to the barest minimum of possessions.  With a narrowed choice of options I'm less likely to go overboard and pack more than I need (or more than I can carry).  Does this pair of jeans/socks/underwear have holes in them?  No?  In they go.  It's difficult to attach ceremonial significance to these ordinary choices and actions, regardless of what significance the trip may have for me.


Upon second thought, though, I realize that I do engage in a series of ritual actions that I perform before each trip, long or short.  I pile everything that I plan to take with me in a central location (usually the bed or the family room couch) prior to tucking it all in place in my bags.  I check to make sure my luggage tags are still attached and intact.  I straighten up and set things right in the house.  I start the dishwasher, or clean and put away any stray dishes.  I make sure the litter boxes are clean and there is plenty of food, water and clean litter for the cat sitter.  I gather up food, toys, treats, bed and leash for my dog so he'll be comfortable at my best friend's house (when I fly) or in the truck (when I drive).  I don't leave the house without the keys in my hand.


I believe that the mode of travel I employ determines the import I place on packing.  Air or train travel limits me to what I can fit in a specific number of bags, regardless of where I'm going or how long I'll be gone.  When I travel by air, too, I generally know in advance where I'll take my meals and where I'll be staying while I'm gone.  


It's different when I pack for a road trip.  The need for self-sufficiency is much greater when I travel by car.  On a road trip I keep the destination and estimated date I intend to arrive in mind, then point the Jeep in a given direction and leave nearly everything after that to chance.  Only rarely do I plan in advance where I'll go, how many hours I'll drive, or where I'll stop on a given road trip day.  I go till I'm tired, then find a place to camp or sleep in the truck.  I carry food and water with me so I can eat when and where the urge strikes me.  When I see something that intrigues me, I stop and check it out.  This method of travel may be more free-form and organic than hopping a flight, but it requires a great deal more forethought during the packing phase, as well as an enhanced degree of care and attention during the loading phase.


If there's nothing extraordinary or particularly sacred about my preparations today, it's probably because I perform them by rote.  Without thought to what it means to be doing them, what it means to be going on yet another trip.  Perhaps I've been traveling so much I've begun to take travel, and the act of getting ready to leave, for granted.  If I pay more attention, maybe I can find the special in the mundane. 




Are there any rituals that you perform before leaving on a trip?  Leave your thoughts below.