The Burdens You Don’t Need to Carry

“Ever noticed how every camping trip starts with good intentions and ends with a boot full of ‘just in case’ stuff?”

We tell ourselves we’re packing light this time, only the essentials, but somehow the pile grows taller. An extra pillow, a spare towel, a third frying pan just in case. Before you know it, the car looks ready for an expedition across the Sahara.

And yet, when we finally get there, under the open sky, fire crackling, we realise we don’t need much at all. Just warmth, simple food, a cup, a quiet moment, and good company.

So what are the burdens you don’t need to carry?

Some items belong more in daydreams than in real campsites. For us, that’s our tactical shovel, foldable, multi-purpose, and proudly unused.

We bought it imagining we’d be digging heroic wilderness holes or blazing new trails. Reality? I like my peace, privacy, and zero leeches.

It turns out, minimalism isn’t about being hardcore, it’s about being honest about how you actually camp.

There’s always a little extra we bring, the just in case things that make us feel prepared. But sometimes, those what-ifs grow into a pile that only weighs us down.

For us, the what-ifs were books. We thought there’d be nothing to do at camp, what if we got bored? Maybe we’d finally have the leisure of reading.

And yet, not a single page was turned. We were already escaping, from noise, from screens, from routine, and the more we looked at Mother Nature, the less we needed another world to disappear into.

Immersing ourselves in the wild became the best kind of story.

Pack for peace of mind, not for every scenario.

Comfort is wonderful, until it clutters your peace.

Big pillows, extra blankets, fancy pans, hairdryers, all meant to make camping “easier,” but they often do the opposite.

The comfort of lightness often beats the comfort of luxury.

Some items simply ask for more energy than they give back, the finicky gadgets, too much clean-up after usage, over-engineered setups.

If you spend more time managing your gear than enjoying the moment, it’s not serving you.

Camping gear should support the experience, not become the experience.

Camping has a way of humbling our priorities.

The things that once felt essential, makeup, perfume, nail polish, even the comb, quickly show their true worth.

After a few trips, I realised all I really need fits in one small pouch: a jar of vaseline, sunscreen, and a hair tie. That’s it.

Out here, you don’t need to perform. You just need to be.

Camping has a way of reminding us what we actually need, and what we’ve been carrying out of habit, guilt, or fantasy.

Every unnecessary item tells a small story of fear or wishful thinking.

Every intentional choice is a quiet act of trust.

The lighter we pack, the closer we get to who we truly are, and to what really matters.