I went camping this weekend and will be visiting another new city later this week! One of my core values is exploring, and I recently dived into mini-adventures. I made it a summer goal to be outside as much as possible, and one of my year-long goals is to explore a new location every week. So this weekend, I headed 2 hours north.
How do I maintain these trips? Don’t I get tired? Do my introversion and minimalism get in the way? This last question stuck with me. Though I’ve traveled to the east coast and taught in Jamaica, I’ve never considered minimalist camping trips. Is it a thing? Yes. It’s easier than you may think!
As a minimalist, I intentionally choose connection.
When camping, your bed is on your back. Where else can you wrap, set up, and take down your home so quickly? I prefer tents not just because of their efficiency but because the choice of tents over a cabin (or even over staying at home) forces resourcefulness and bridges connections on where you are and what you have. The tent, below the canopy of trees, under a sky of stars is your home.
I learned the value of “pack it in, pack it out” through scouting, but it applies to minimalism, too. It means, whatever you bring, you must find a way to take it back, too. Our disposable culture values excess and convenience, but I prefer things that last and don’t mind when non-disposable items are lost. So when my sunglasses fell as a result of tubing, I searched for a while and didn’t mourn when I couldn’t find them. Minimalism is all about choosing what you value.
As an introverted minimalist, I choose fun environments.
I think there’s a misconception that minimalists and introverts don’t have any fun. On some level, I understand it: We are social creatures searching for understanding from other beings. And, as an introvert, I feel most comfortable when I’m bonding 1:1. So, I strapped on my camp counselor shoes and mentally prepared myself. I brought a book and notebook with me but never once opened either defense mechanism.
This was my first weekend camping with my boyfriend’s family. Instead of being scared how many new faces and names I’d need to memorize, I focused on the happy environment of the great outdoors and the possibility of shared connections. As a result of being open-minded, I connected with a cousin who also temporarily called Jamaica home. Another family member also loves the bitter truths behind Cards against Humanity (though I am terrible at that game). And, of course, triumphed at splashing contests with the grand-kids in the river.
Minimalism, like camping, gives space.
You’ll notice, there aren’t any markers of where I specifically traveled. I didn’t check my phone most of the weekend. I didn’t consider how to frame my food into an Instagram-worthy square. And all of my notifications are waiting because I’d rather write this weekly update than browse social media or email.
I’m giving myself the head space to think about how one grandmother planned Olympian-style games for all of her grandchildren, complete with prizes. I’d rather think of my boyfriend’s grin, as the tent quickly took shape, only to be taken down a day later. And I’m thinking about the sunshiny warmth of family, how many hugs I received from people I just met.
Camping, even if it’s just a few hours away from home, lets you have an “in between” where space and time pass, but they’re not relevant to the activities ahead. I camp because it brings me joy. And so too does my minimalism journey: I’m learning to spend less time buying, worrying, and doing chores and instead more time doing what I love. And that’s enough for me. Now, over to you. How do you sustainably bring joy to your life? How do you decide your “enough”? Share in the comments!