Allison Vesterfelt - The Freedom to Make Mistakes: A Portion from Packing Light

2013 by
ALLISON VESTERFELT

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All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version, NIV. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.

Published in association with the literary agency of Darrell Vesterfelt.

This is a work of nonfiction. Though names, places, and other identifers may be altered to protect the privacy of those involved, the events and thematic elements faithfully represent the authors experiences, context, and insights gleaned.

Edited by Stephanie S. Smith of (In)dialogue Communications
Interior design: Design Corps
Cover design: Gilbert & Carlson Design, LLC dba Gearbox
Cover image: Veer/GoodMood Photo #4647420
Author photo: Lucas Botz Photography

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Vesterfelt, Allison.
Packing light : thoughts on living life with less baggage / Allison Vesterfelt.
pages cm
ISBN 978-0-8024-0729-0
1. Conduct of life. 2. Simplicity. I. Title.
BJ1589.V47 2013
248.4dc23

2013016093

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The following content is taken from Packing Light, by Allison Vesterfelt. If you own the full book already, you can find this section in chapter 5.

If you are interested in hearing more from the team that facilitated this adapted content, visit moodycollective.com.

This Portion Adapted From Packing Light by Allison Vesterfelt

introduction: where the journey begins

: plan a trip

: pack your bags

: say goodbye

: embrace the unexpected

: change your expectations

: when you dont pack light enough

: the things you have to leave behind

: losing your way

: open hands

: choose your path

: the mourning after

: three feet from gold

: write your own book

afterword: the way you pack

Excerpt from Life after Art

In 2010 I quit my full-time job, sold all of my possessions, and moved out of my apartment to chase my lifelong dream of writing a book. I left my family behind, my friends, my boyfriend (Ben) and everything else that mattered to me to spend a year of my life, along with my friend Sharaya, a musician, visiting all 50 states. This is the first of many obstacles we faced along the way.

When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.

VICTOR E. FRANKL

ITS HARD TO FILL in all the blanks of the places we traveled, because a list does not do them justice. Every place had a personality, and friends along the way who treated us to coffee and couches and dinner. Every place had a feeling associated with it, a trail where I would go running in the morning, even a song we happened to be stuck on at the time.

There were the guys in Spokane who we met by chance, one of whom was the trainer for the Spokane Chiefs. I had a hip injury that was bothering me, and he did some sort of electroshock therapy to fix it. One night I sat outside the house, leaning against the brick and talking to Ben. I waited for a pause in the conversation before I asked the question I had been scared to ask for a few days now. Does it bother you when we stay with guys?

I trust you, Ally, he said, and I marveled at his strength and grace.

In Boise, I was stuck on Sharayas song about what it feels like to have a crush on someonethe not knowing, the excitement. We showed up late to Sharayas show because we forgot about the time change driving east, but the room was packed and Sharaya didnt have any time to panic before she got on stage. That was also where we met Jackson, a friend of a friend back home, an outdoor expert who told us he would take us camping in the Grand Tetons sometime.

In Salt Lake City, we stayed with a friends younger sister, who was living there while she completed her masters degree. She and her roommate opened their home to us, which I remember thinking sat on one of the cleanest and most beautifully manicured streets I had ever seen in my life. They shared their couches, their kitchen, and their French press with us. We sat tucked in their little breakfast nook talking about the goodness of God and the goodness of coffee.

The other thing I remember about Salt Lake City was the library where we spent our work day. I swear the whole building was made of glass, top to bottom, and you could look out of the elevator as you rode up at the millions of books on display.

Its strange the things that stick with you when you move from place to place quickly. In some ways you think youll remember everything, that youll come home from a trip and have the whole thing locked away and held tight like a box full of pictures, notes, and memories hidden under your bed. But the days pass, and before you know it youre a year down the road, and you didnt really decide what to keep and what to leave behind. The memories picked themselves. The ones you never expected to keep wiggle their way into the safety of that box, and the ones you hoped would stick aroundthe name of that girl you met in the coffee shop that day, or the park where you stopped to eat lunch and play guitar between this city and that onefade away slowly. Youre not even sure where they went.

From Salt Lake City we drove to Park City, unexpectedly, because Sean did connect us with his friend Peter there. Peters wife, Jane, greeted us at the door with hugs and offered us tea right away. Peter wasnt there right now, she said, but he would be back later. She showed us the basement where we could keep our things, and asked if we would like dinner before Sharayas show. In each place we gathered postcardsfifteen of them for our fifteen biggest supportersand I would write notes to each of them about our latest travels.

Two brothers invited us to stay with them in Denver. They were friends of Sharayas since high school, and the older of the two moved out of his room so Sharaya and I could share the private bathroom. In Colorado Springs, we climbed The Inclinea 1.2 mile staircase that gains over 2,000 feet in elevation and looks out over the deep red and emerald-green mountain view. We came back to our car to find a parking ticket, but we didnt care. The disappointment we felt over this mundane daily disappointment paled in comparison to the elation of being alive and awake and free to explore.

Thats what I rememberthat, and the way the squelching hot summer afternoon turned into a rainstorm in a matter of about thirty seconds. I had never seen anything like that before, and I leaned out the window to take pictures in the rain as we drove around Manitou State Park.

In Boulder, Colorado, we stayed with a perfect stranger, a girl who had connected with us through another friend on Facebook. We played a show in downtown Boulder that didnt finish until around ten, showed up as she was about to go to sleep, and left before she woke up the next morning. We were going camping. And it was on the drive from Boulder, Colorado, to a campsite in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, when the car first started to overheat.