Rob Witham

The argument that Americans have too much stuff is not even debatable. I embrace a philosophy and theology of simple living, own far less than most anyone I know, and yet I still feel that I have more than I need. Clutter and excess seem so integrated into our culture as to be inescapable.

How much do we really need to live well? Maybe we could better ask how little we need to truly live well.

Paul Caccamo is preparing to through hike the Pacific Crest Trail this summer and recounts some of his trip preparations in an online journal (link here - Thanks Paul!). Through-hiking the Pacific Crest Trail has been on my personal goal list for a few years so I also appreciate Paul’s journal for that reason.

For quite some time I’ve been feeling the desire to check out of our mechanized and digitalized existence. I’ve become extremely sensitive to machine sounds over the past few years. If I’m at a stoplight and my window is open next to a large diesel truck I can feel my internal organs grinding in tune with the engine, unpleasant to say the least. The ubiquitous leaf blower makes me want to strangle its inventor. Cell phones. Car stereos. Muzak in the mall. TVs blaring in the restaurant, the bar, the oil change place. The neighbor’s Harley at 7am Monday. Is it just me or has America gotten a lot louder in the past 20 years? I believe it was Aldo Leopold who called humans “the noisy species”.

I could use a break from all this noise.

That’s one reason I’m going. Five months of quiet. Yes indeed. (Paul Caccamo)

Paul goes on to detail the gear he will be bringing when he hikes the PCT this summer - all 13 pounds of it! Excluding food and water Paul will hike 2,650 miles of wilderness terrain with a 13-pound pack.

Imagine living for five months with only 13 pounds of stuff. I would suggest that living in this manner would be living well indeed. As an affluent society we are far too reluctant to realize the negative impact our materialism and consumerism has on us.

I recall an extended canoeing trip my father and I participated in several years ago. We spent a full week canoeing the lakes and rivers of Algonquin Provincial Park in Ontario, Canada. It was a wonderful (if demanding) week. I commented on the first day that I missed three things:

• my kids
• my frame pack (I never did get the Duluth pack adjusted comfortably)
• my microwave (spending an hour to build a cooking fire was a tedious experience initially)

After seven days in the wilderness I could truthfully say I had revised my list of things I missed. I was down to only missing two things:

• my kids
• my frame pack (I still didn’t like the Duluth pack)

My concept of time and what was important changed during my time in the wilderness. Spending an hour to build a fire was no longer tedious. After a full week I still did not miss all of my stuff at home. In fact, my resolve only increased that I did not need any of it.

This is a lesson we could all use to spend more time contemplating. I do not suppose to tell anyone how much stuff they should own. I have enough trouble answering that question for myself (ask my wife if you doubt that!). I do know, however, that each of us will one day give an accounting to God for how we have conducted ourselves and how we have shared the resources entrusted to us. God does not bless us so we can hoard resources. God blesses us so that we can in turn bless others.

So, what 13 pounds would you choose for your life journey?