As was the case with many philosophers of antiquity, Socrates led a frugal life. He
had few possessions and even refused to wear shoes. Yet, he loved visiting the
marketplace and went there often, just walking around and looking at stuff. So,
a friend asked him why he would visit the marketplace so frequently. Socrates answered:
“I love going there to look at all the things I’m perfectly happy without!”
When thinking of traveling light, we think of traveling without much baggage. We imagine going
on a journey without taking many heavy things, just the necessary stuff, so our belongings won’t
weigh us down. This lightness generally makes traveling enjoyable; we can move faster, and
more freely, and we’re more flexible. Minimalist packers move more easily through crowded places
and may save on luggage fees. Also, if you bring less stuff, you have less stuff to worry about.
So, acknowledging these benefits, what about traveling light as a metaphor for a broader
spectrum? What about traveling light as a ‘way of life?’ Looking at it from that
perspective, then, what would ‘traveling light’ entail? Is it a matter of having
few possessions like Socrates? Perhaps walking around without shoes? Or does this ‘lightness’
come from other aspects of existence? This video explores the art of traveling light through life.
King Midas, a ruler famed for his wealth, harbored an insatiable lust for gold. His obsession was so
deep that when the god Dionysus granted him a wish, the king chose the ability to turn
everything he touched into gold. Initially elated, he indulged in his new power, turning objects into
gold with a mere touch. However, his joy quickly turned into despair when, through his touch, he
also transformed his food and drink and even his beloved daughter into gold. King Midas realized
that his wish was a grave mistake, so he begged Dionysus to undo his wish, which he did. From
that point, Midas understood that his greed for gold could actually destroy life’s true treasures.
It’s not uncommon that our desire for stuff weighs us down. Humans tend to hold on to stuff;
we tend to accumulate to have more than we need. This tendency may come from an
inborn desire for self-preservation. We wish to own a house, as houses provide us protection,
so owning one gives us a sense of stability in that regard. We stuff our pantries, freezers,
and fridges with food, which lowers the chance of us starving in the future, and we don’t have
to buy food every time we’re hungry. And then there are the hoarders who take this urge for
self-preservation to another level by holding on to loads of useless stuff; they’re so attached to
these material goods that they just can’t bring themselves to throw them away. We also have the
wealthy folks who not just buy a house; they buy villas with pools, four bathrooms, ten bedrooms,
etc. They don’t just buy cars; they own a whole collection, including a few supercars. Such buying
behavior goes way beyond self-preservation. It’s greed akin to King Midas’s lust for gold.
Owning a lot of stuff can be very convenient. We don’t have to leave the house for a swim when we
have a pool. When our freezer is full of food, we can last a while before going to the supermarket
again. Take my mom, for example. She possesses many things that I wouldn’t even think of saving.
But if you suddenly need a birthday card, if you want to do some ad hoc stone grilling, if you want
to shorten the sleeves of your new cardigan, or, like my sister, want to renovate an old bus into
a mobile home, my mom has everything, literally everything, to make that happen within reach.
So, it’s not that owning a lot of stuff isn’t useful. In my observation,
it's just that owning a lot weighs people down in some form or another. Take the burdens of being
wealthy and owning a massive villa with lots of expensive stuff. First, you must rely on security
measures because you’re a target for criminals. Then, you need to maintain the place; someone has
to water the plants, cut the grass, vacuum clean the ten bedrooms, clean the five bathrooms and
the pool. You’ll also have to keep the place warm (or cool, depending on where you are). So, you’ll
need a lot of money to maintain this already expensive villa. This example is an exaggeration,
but the same principle happens when a couple buys a house they can barely afford, meaning
they rely on two incomes to pay the mortgage and other expenses. Yes, they have the dream house,
but they traded it for being stuck in their position. This mortgage is a millstone around
their necks. It robs them of flexibility and freedom. They essentially have become prisoners
of their financial obligations. The ancient Greek philosopher Epicurus put it this way, saying:
“No pleasure is in itself evil, but the things which produce certain
pleasures entail annoyances many times greater than the pleasures themselves.”
End quote. The experience of being
overburdened reminds me of the video game Skyrim, which I immersed myself in during the winter of
2011. During the game, you can collect all kinds of stuff: armor, swords, herbs, cheese wedges,
etc. But the more you collect, the slower you move. And when you’re carrying too much,
you can’t even move. I think this serves as a metaphor for life in general. The more you own,
the heavier these things weigh on you. You’ll have more to take care of, more to defend,
more to protect, more responsibility. There’s more at stake and more to lose
so you may experience more anxiety on account of that as well. These things that you acquired
to benefit you begin to rule your agenda as they all demand a piece of your attention.
As Tyler Durden stated: “The things you own end up owning you. It’s only after you lose
everything that you’re free to do anything.” Your possessions have become a burden. And
it’s not just possessions that can become burdensome; thinking can also do that.
Most of the time, the reason we don’t move forward in life is because we refuse to let go of things
that hold us down. All this psychological and material baggage we carry around makes life heavy,
and we walk through it as pack mules. What a relief it would be if we could just lift these
burdens off our shoulders. How much lighter would life be if we could let go of stuff a bit easier?
Heaviness in the material realm is one thing; heaviness in the psychological
realm is another. When we’re psychologically heavy, we experience these recurring thoughts,
like worries about the future and ruminations of the past, memories of trauma, and the negative
emotions that come from that. Throughout history, humanity invented numerous philosophical systems
that help us ‘reduce’ this heaviness, so to speak, such as Stoicism, Cynicism, and Buddhism. At the
core of these systems lies the ability to let go of specific thoughts, whether by rational
thinking (and weeding out irrational thoughts) or by calming the mind through meditation. Also,
in Christian practice, there’s this ritual of confessing one’s sins, which is a way to cleanse
oneself of the burdens of carrying them around. In Stoicism, it’s not just about bad memories
or worries about the future; it’s also about the heaviness of desire and aversion. We can
experience this heaviness ourselves. Desiring something comes with a certain magnitude. The
same is true for aversion, which is fundamentally the same as desire but geared toward not having
or encountering something. Desiring something implies a lack of something. It’s a feeling of
dissatisfaction, an idea that occupies our minds and makes us restless. Strong desires
can wear us out. And when these desires remain unsatisfied, the emotions resulting from that
become burdensome. I don’t feel “light” when I’m in this constant state of ‘wanting’ and
dissatisfaction. Lightness occurs when I feel content, no longer in need or want.
Something interesting about philosophical systems like those we find in Stoicism,
Buddhism, Christianity, Islam, etc, is an emphasis on non-attachment and letting go
of material things as well. Buddhist monks don’t have possessions besides a few robes and an eating
bowl. The extremely minimalist philosopher Diogenes the Cynic went a step further as he
disposed of his bowl (well, it was a drinking cup, to be honest) after seeing a child drinking from a
pond using his hands. Also, there are Christians who decide to simplify their lives, let go of
wealth and possessions, and focus on contemplation and prayer; some even go and live a monastic life,
which is inherently minimalistic. One of my Muslim friends told me that she doesn’t focus on
wealth because she won’t take it with her into the afterlife, and seeking wealth also distracts her
from her relationship with God. Stoic philosopher Epictetus advised his students not to attach to
things outside of their control, such as material possessions, because by doing that, they grant
them the power to influence their mental state. He also argued that you can’t both become a sage
and desire lesser things (material things in this case) simultaneously; it’s the one or the other.
The sages of old saw possessions (or attachment to them, at least) as distractions,
burdens that weighed them down on their path, a path only available to those who
travel light. So, what does the idea of traveling light through life look like?
After global pestilence, lockdowns, and curfews, I decided to travel. I have the luxury of working
anywhere as long as there’s an internet connection and a quiet place to work and record my scripts,
which most hotel rooms are suitable for. I generally travel slowly, taking my time to immerse
myself in the place I’m in. Regarding baggage, I’ve reduced most things to the bare minimum,
but not to the point that it becomes inconvenient. It’s very minimalist to take just two T-shirts on
your trip, but then you’ll have to wash them daily, which isn’t time-efficient. I take my
small laptop, an extra screen, a mic, and other small accessories. So, the equipment
I need to run this YouTube channel fits in this bag, which is quite awesome when I think of it.
Call me crazy, but I see my travels as a metaphor for traveling light through life. I only need
this yellow suitcase and a black sports bag to work and live. Sometimes, when I’m in my hotel
room looking at my stuff, I’m amazed at how few things I need to function. And you guessed it:
it feels light. Maybe that’s why I enjoy traveling so much; it’s an unforgettable, inspiring,
often transforming experience that, to me at least, requires minimal material possessions.
The mere idea that when I move from one country to another, all I have on me is that yellow suitcase
and black bag gives me a sense of freedom and non-attachment as if nothing material tethers me
to the ground. When I roll my luggage toward the airport check-in desk, it’s as if my whole life
consists of myself and what’s in my hands (which actually isn’t true because I also have my stuff
at home. Besides, I also depend on the home front to check my mail, and things like that). Still,
it’s an exhilarating experience every time. It also reminds me of playing Skyrim as a wood-elf
that I trained to use light armor and weapons. Wood elves are small, light creatures with
stealthy abilities, such as sneaking, spying, and stealing. They’re speedy, and their lightness adds
a dimension of freedom to the gaming experience. Traveling light makes you agile. Agility makes
a person flexible. For example, when traveling, when I don’t like a place,
I just pack my bags and go elsewhere: my time is too valuable to spend in places I don’t like.
Such agility I value in life in general as well. Imagine all your possessions, mortgage, and other
responsibilities and obligations tethering you to the ground so that you can't move whenever you
want to steer your life in another direction. It means you’re stuck. It means that whatever stuff
you’re holding on to weighs you down. But aside from not being weighed down
by outside circumstances, I think the ultimate way of traveling light through
life is to be ‘light between the ears.’ It’s ‘not being encumbered’ by all these
worries about the future, the bad memories of the past, the many desires and aversions,
all these ideas floating around in our minds. When the mind is light, the body gets light.
It doesn’t matter how minimalist you are or if all your possessions fit in
a suitcase; if your mind is burdensome, traveling light becomes a heavy task.
Thank you for watching.