Since April 6th, 2023, I’ve liked to tell the story that goes like this – “I live out of my backpack.” That was 637 days ago, when I started saying this. Inside these 637 days, the whole truth of that statement comes and goes – it, flexes a little bit.
Let’s talk about minimal traveling then. Even that phrase right now kind of gives me an internal smile. ChatGPT, my current 2025 masterplan life coach, told me to pick fun names for creation during the week. Catchy stuff, you know. Memorable and all that. And it told me to pick “minimalism and traveling Thursday” as a weekly feature. But I wanted to squish that a little bit and put some humor inside. My little jokes, that I’m the only one that gets, but they make me laugh.
What exactly is minimal traveling?
What exactly is “minimal traveling”? Traveling the least amount possible? That’s a funny goal. And that’s where the chuckle comes in. What’s the best way to get to where you’re going? Through minimal traveling. Cosmically, energetically, as the crow flies. Minimal traveling. Both of those words can mean several nuanced things, and I feel like I am embracing all of them, my big hug to the world of simplicity and efficient energy savings. We’ll talk more about all that later.
But now let’s talk about the backpack , because that’s what Chat says the day is about. I have my medium-sized blue pack. Inexpensive, not too many pockets, not exactly water resistant, not exactly the most comfortable with its not-exactly-the-right-size-or-shape belts, buckles, and straps.
The backpack is so central to my stories because I decided during my original 500-day project that I wasn’t going to travel with checked luggage. Whatever was going on the journey was staying within an arm’s length of me on the plane.
Fly me to the moon
So I flew from Flint. Michigan to Florianopolis, Brazil with the blue pack. From Florianopolis to Manaus and back. From Florianopolis back to Michigan six months later. From Michigan to Taipei. From Taipei back and forth to Hong Kong, the Philippines, then South Korea, then Hong Kong again, and now back to South Korea again – all with the same blue pack.
But in interim times, I have gained and lost some stuff that doesn’t fit in the pack. Exercise equipment like yoga mats or stretch bands. Some extra pairs of shoes before I destroy them on my adventures. Bigger seasonal clothes. My Tai Chi competition clothes. And when I come and go flying, sometimes I have to store these things with friends, or give some things away – however it works. So I’m not exactly living out of my backpack.
The truth is that I travel with my single backpack, but I don’t exist as a traveler without some extra things from time to time. So if you’re planning on being a minimal traveler, the context is super important. Context, and budget, and scarcity mentality – which I am still fighting, even 637 days into this wild ride. Such an umbrella question over everything – “what do I take with me? What parts of my identity matter that I can carry on my shoulders?” That’s what the backpack symbolizes.
Socks and cheap t-shirts
You can always buy new socks and cheap t-shirts. You can always buy new toothpaste, soap, basic first aid things. Stuff that is heavy eventually even if it’s small. And I keep carrying around a few medium-sized creative tools that might or might not be your thing. I have a higher-quality portable audio recorder. A battery powered gimbal. I haven’t used them nearly enough, but it’s like a promise to myself that I swear I’m creative, and that those tools will make what I share that much more of a quality of experience to the people I share it with. Pending, in progress. For sure. I have them. I will use them. This is my mantra.
This particular time from Taipei to Seoul I got to bring fewer things than usual. Yurim, my friend in Korea here, told me she was gathering winter clothes for me. So I just packed one set of traveling clothes, then the essential boxers, undershirts, socks. I packed for a five-day trip. I’ll be here six weeks. My backpack was lighter than it has ever been, except I bought a two-pack of liquor from the duty-free shop In Songshan for a friend of hers – the one who donated much of my winter wardrobe here. The closet of the room I’m staying in is full of amazing threads and colors and textures. I am a walking fashion show, with clothes I’d never have picked out or worn before on my own, but now it’s fun, randomly choosing red stripes and gray vests and purple lumberjack shirts and putting them all together, walking outside with mismatched hands – I lost a single glove somewhere, replaced it with another straggler – and one of two hats, either the one that makes me look like an acorn or the one that makes me look like a snowman, with a puff-ball on the top.
What’s in your backpack?
All this, though, these details and memories and intentions, makes a story about minimal travel, as well as a question for you that has so many layers – what’s in your backpack now, when you’re ready to go where you’re headed next?
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