Distilled Happiness

Upon learning that I was going to live in Brazil for 9 months, I fielded a wide range of questions. One that was delivered with perhaps the most perplexity, was “What are you taking with you?” A valid question, if there ever was one. Indeed, figuring out what to fit into two suitcases and a carry-on for 270 days is quite similar to the proverbial desert island question. What things can you not live, I mean really not live, without?

Luckily, clothing was the easy part. For a climate that only varies about 20 degrees year round and a society that prides itself on its partially clothed existence, clothing is really a no-brainer. Nope, it was really the rest of the stuff that poised a problem. And so I packed things that gave me comfort and peace, things that were familiar and restful: in short, I packed happiness.

Books took up most of my suitcase, 26 of them to be precise; a number which might seem startlingly small with my reading habits, but I’m sure I’ll survive. Several photo frames and a small photo album, just to keep things homey. Travel Scrabble and 2 decks of cards for Canasta, essentials for someone like me with quite the competitive streak. Too many products from Bath n’ Body Works because there’s nothing more relaxing then a luxurious shower. Spices from the venerable Spice House in Chicago, practical and indulgent at the same time. A mini scrapbook album, to keep my hands engaged while my mind wanders.

When I finally finished packing, I stepped back and cast a critical eye over my two suitcases. Since leaving Chicago, I had been discarding belongings like a snake sheds it’s skin. But after the throwing and giving away, the storage unit, my mother’s house, finally everything I would own in the world was down to these two suitcases. This was my happiness, distilled.

Yes, I know. “Things” cannot give you true happiness. And that may be right to a certain extent, for all these things that I was dragging across half the world do not create happiness in and of themselves; they simply are the triggers for the happiness already inside me.

But what a great exercise, yes? Grab a suitcase, put your happiness inside. These things represent everything I love in the world: knowledge, sweet smells, storytelling, fierce competition, memories, and familiar flavors. Things that will always be with me, no matter where or how long I travel.


I envision myself 20 years in the future, surrounded by a large beautiful home, with lawns and dogs and cars. But I will never bring myself to throw away this relic, a remembrance of a time when happiness did not sprawl across half an acre, but instead existed in it’s purest form: a suitcase.