Mo Kim

I’m sitting at Gate 29 at Oakland Airport, pondering one of life’s biggest mysteries:

Why is packing so hard?

Why do I, faced with eleven T-shirts, three pairs of jeans, and six variations on the same flannel, waste time waffling between countless permutations before inevitably defaulting to my tried-and-true favorites? Why do I always brush off my husband’s gentle reminders to start preparing for our upcoming trip with braggadocious claims that I can get that shit done in 30 minutes, only to face my hubris at 4AM, three hours before our flight? And worst of all, why does half of the stuff I cram into my luggage (and backpack, and coat pockets) end up being dead weight: the Switch I never bother taking out of its case, the riveting study of urban poverty that’s too brutal to be good beach reading, the novelty shirt that stays buried in the bottom of my carry-on?

Well, fear not, indecisive fools and procrastinators: 29 years into my travels, I have seen the errors of my ways and found a solution. It’s called Just Pack One Bag And Stop Worrying About It.

This solution, to be fair, runs counter to basically every instinct in my body. I’m what some would call a “maximalist” and others would call a “hoarder.” No matter where you look in my room, you’ll find old thank-you notes from kids (so sweet!), countless sample-sized bottles of toner and cleanser (skincare is important!) and silly little baby shark Post-Its from 2015 (don’t throw those away, I need them for work!) This philosophy of things – keep everything that might be useful to you at any point in time – is basically how I have approached packing for most of my life…at least, until now.

My first experience with one-bag travel came last August, but not by choice. After months of arguing with my homophobic evangelical family, I finally decided to send a 10-page letter cutting them off, a process so viscerally upsetting that on multiple occasions I had to dunk my head and scream into a bowl of ice water (in the presence of friends, who graciously volunteered to support me through this trial). Regrettably, I made this choice exactly one night before a three-day college tour in Houston: sadly, in the midst of my family drama, no packing or planning had happened. Once again, I found myself staring at my empty carry-on, dreading the inevitable routine of filling it with things I knew I’d have to drag through airport terminals and city streets.

Emotionally drained, I made a drastic choice: for once, I would forgo the suitcase. If it didn’t fit into my backpack, it wouldn’t come with me.

With hours before I had to leave, that simple parameter filtered out all the noise around me, giving me laser-sharp focus. Day by day, hour by hour, I mapped out what I’d be wearing, what I’d be doing, and what I would need to be comfortable and confident. My usual pile of potential travel outfits narrowed to three shirts, two pairs of pants, and a single button-up; all my usual distractions, like the Switch and book I’d never read, remained at home, save for my daughter, Doris the dolphin (after all, I snuggle her when I sleep). As a creature of habit, all this felt alien to me: how would I fare, I wondered, without all my usual knick-knacks?

Surprisingly, though, I found relief on the other side. When I arrived at Oakland Airport, getting through security happened in under a minute, walking through the terminal felt lighter without a bag in tow, and I completely sidestepped the usual silent drama of negotiating overhead bin space. My three days in Houston proved even more refreshing. Having such a limited wardrobe meant no deliberating or second-guessing what to wear, and without my usual devices to distract me, I had no choice but to immerse myself in local sights and attractions, taking time to enjoy life in a new place. I returned a changed man: maybe after cutting loose decades of emotional baggage, the idea of cutting physical baggage appealed to me more than before.

Two months later, packing for another college tour in Minnesota, I tried something different. I embraced my newfound organization, checking my weather and itinerary, then backwards-planning outfits and items I might need for the days ahead. This time, though, I took a much bigger bag than what I needed: when I landed in Minneapolis, my carry-on was only about a third-full.

That extra space, however, proved invaluable, as I took souvenirs for my students from each college campus we visited, bought a few local gifts for my friends and family, and even managed to commission a custom 18×18 canvas print of me and my husband to surprise him! It turns out, sometimes packing light can give you the room you need to bring back meaningful memories and trinkets from your travels.

Finally, two weeks ago, my husband scheduled an impromptu trip to Seattle: his last chance to see friends and travel before grad school starts again. Loath to pass up on any opportunity to hang out with my husband, I said yes, even knowing this would mean working a full Saturday in Berkeley before scrambling to get to the airport. It would also mean, given my flight time, that I’d need to somehow pack for both work that day and a four-day trip in a much colder climate (temperatures in Seattle are currently dipping into the 20s) Here’s what ended up in my backpack today. Let me know how you think I did!

• Attached to the backpack:
  • A carabiner (in case I want to attach a smaller bag to my backpack)
  • A portable hand sanitizer
• On the side compartment:
  • Zojirushi thermos (what can I say? I’m an old man. I need my water hot.)
• In the front compartment:
  • A USB-C dongle and USB-C charging cable for both my laptop/phone
  • Rosalina the baby raccoon (this is her first trip out-of-state – yay Rosalina!)
• In the middle compartment:
  • Protein snacks for the next few days (beef jerky, cashews, a protein cookie, and a Clif Bar). I have trouble getting enough protein in my meals, so these are really meant to be a supplement, not a replacement!
  • The zip-up pocket on the inside contains my keys, work lanyard, and earbuds.
• In the main compartment:
  • My Pixelbook (the lightest laptop I own)
  • Two small books I want to tackle over the weekend
  • A messenger bag full of clothes, rolled up to maximize storage space (learning to properly roll your clothes will save you SO much space, not even joking)
    • Two short-sleeve t-shirts
    • One long-sleeve baseball tee
    • One sweater
    • One lightweight winter jacket (with a hood)
    • One beanie
    • One pair of thermal underwear/pajamas
    • One pair of merino wool socks
    • Two pairs of underwear
  • A satchel with pens/highlighters, a small notebook, a Tide pen, hand cream, and Lactaid (yes, this is important)
  • And, most importantly, Penelophe the baby elephant

I’m surprised I had so much to say about packing: something I used to dread now feels like an intellectual challenge, an opportunity for me to hone in on my belongings and clarify what truly matters to me. And in the end, maybe that’s the key to packing well: being able to picture yourself in different settings, and making space for the things and people who matter most to you, no matter where you find yourself!

And with that, we’ve just landed in Seattle. I can’t wait to be reunited with my boo and all of our friends up in the Pacific Northwest!