Sunday, January 15, 2012
One more blog about movin' along the highway...
"Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life." -Jack Kerouac
When I was a small tiny girly, I loved to go places. I was only able to sit inside reading Ramona books for so long before I started pestering my parents and asking them, "are we doing anything today?" After trips to grocery stores, gas stations, forests, lakes, back country roads... my parents ran out of places to take me so I began to make up my own places to go. I made passports, maps, travel guides and packed my suitcase. In the basement my ma had two old maroon suitcases she got as high school graduation gift. One was quite small and could fit the essentials for a 10 year old traveler: t-shirt, journal, gold-fish, fourteen different pens, friendship bracelet making string and of course all my papers for airfare, train tickets and business cards.
Baggage is an interesting concept. What you pack in your suitcase will follow you for the rest of your life, (unless the airline lost your bags). Most time we hear about the baggage someone brings into new town or new relationship ("... and you don't have any baggage tied to your four feet" from Norah Jones' Man of the Hour) But what if we placed happy memories and thoughts in our suitcases? The essence of baggage is just the memories and experiences that don't leave you when you go somewhere new. Now, I would say that is comforting, not detrimental.
So the next time I meet someone, I hope they are carrying a lot of baggage, I know when I start to travel the world, I know other than my suitcase full of clothes and toothpaste (can you still bring toothpaste in your bag?) I am going to bring my baggage full of stories about my first crayon colored passport.
go on down the road,