I remember the first time the thought really struck me.

It was 15 years ago, shortly after we first ‘retired’. Kevin and I had loaded up our old orange VW Westfalia and headed down the Pacific Coast to Mexico. We were going to be on the road two months!

We might have well said we were going to be heading out for the rest of our lives. Two months was as good as forever. Up to that point in our lives a ten-day holiday had been a huge get-away. In fact, our biggest trip – ever –  had been 17 daysin Thailand.

We quickly learned that two months barely scratched the surface. There was so much to see and experience and suddenly we were rushing back to make it home. I no longer remember why we had to get back, but get back we did, which is when I discovered what was once-again reinforced upon my recent return from San Miguel…that is, I’m really good at Traveling Light, but when I get back, I seem to Live Rather Large.

On the road, I can whip together outfits out of one carry-on bag, or live like we did then, with nothing but a van filled with one old milk crate full of clothes, one full of books and a last one with our shoes.

But somehow coming home completely undoes the entire thing.

That long-ago trip I walked into our house in Mission and took our box of shoes and flip-flops to join the piles of other shoes in the large closet. Then I took that crate of books and went to the special office/library room that was filled with bookshelves full of yet more reading material, and finally, I took our crate of clothes upstairs to join the rest of our clothes housed in dressers and closets and hangers.

Suddenly, I had gone from living out of approximately 18 sq ft (not sure what the floor space of a VW van is, but it’s not much) to dragging stuff to its appropriate spot in the 3700 sq ft of that house. It was ridiculous.

But this time, there is something else going on.

After my recent travels to the San Miguel conference, I’m finally back in our apartment in Vancouver. I have unpacked my one carry-on bag (that was completely sufficient for the trip) but this time I’m looking around and thinking I don’t have enough room at all.

Granted, at just over 1000 sq ft, this apartment is a lot smaller than that house, but how come a motel room and a carry-on feels like abundance when I’m away, and now I’m stuffing things under the bed and in strategically located baskets in the hopes of housing everything?

Receipts and business cards that were crammed in the zipped pocket of my suitcase are demanding to be filed and put away or they threaten to take up the entire tiny surface of my desk. My camera stuff needs a place to live, my laptop needs to sit where it can be charged and now that I’m back to wearing boots, I’m trying to figure out just where the heck I managed to stack all those other shoes.

Meanwhile, remember that lovely tiny carry-on suitcase? It suddenly feels very large. It’s sitting by the front door waiting for my next trip down to the storage room where it will join the paint cans, skis, golf clubs and other sundry bulky goods crammed in that little fenced space.

I refuse to believe that I can only Travel Light. I need to somehow Live Light too. I thought when we moved here that I had been very judicious in what I allowed in the front door, but it seems to me that there needs to be some serious editing around here.

Either that, or I might just put exactly what I need in that little suitcase and hit the road…at least I’ll be Traveling Light.