I was at a seminar with a co-worker and we decided to
head to another part of the building. She put her hands in her pocket and I
grabbed my bulging camera bag, stuffed tote bag and my 10-pound purse.
"Where's your stuff?" I asked.
Smiling, she showed me a pouch the size of a business
card. Inside was her driver's license, a credit card and a few dollar bills.
She said she's a minimalist and only carries what she needs.
I visualized all the "stuff" in my purse, and I
could make a case that I, too, was a minimalist. Like her, I was carrying only
the things I needed.
Well, perhaps I'm taking liberties with the word "minimalism"
when describing my purse. There's about 25 Bics in my purse, but that overkill comes
from a hard-learned lesson.
On one of my first interviews for the newspaper, my pen
ran out of ink. When I had to ask the person I was interviewing for a pen, I
felt like an idiot. I vowed to never be without a working ballpoint again.
Hence the reason for two dozen Bics in my purse.
Hey, a reporter can't be too careful or ill-prepared.
There's the travel size packets of Kleenex. With
allergies that stick around most of the year, having tissues I can grab in a
hurry is a necessity.
Plus I'm clumsy. My Kleenex buddies have helped me mop up
spilled drinks, melting ice cream and squished ketchup packets more times than
I care to count.
Then there's the added weight of all the coins jingling
around in my purse. I've never gotten into the habit of putting coins in my
wallet. I simply toss them into my purse after a transaction so there's always
a river of coins in the bottom. In a pinch, I can always rustle up $1.06 in
dimes, nickels and pennies for something off the dollar menu at the drive
through.
Which brings me to the camera bag. Sure I could use my
cell phone to take pictures, but I love old-fashioned photography so I seldom
venture out without my trusty Canon.
And no photojournalist's going out without a notebook to
write down people's names, extra memory cards and at least five pens because,
well, you know.
The tote bag is when I'm on a field trip. Inside are blank
permission forms, filled-out permission forms, paper, notebooks, a map of the
building and, of course, pens, pencils, highlighters and Kleenex. I don't think
of myself as having too much stuff. Instead, I consider myself the Boy Scout in
the group – always prepared.
Watching me shift the bags around on my shoulders, my
friend said her desk was also spotless – not a paper or folder on the desktop
at the end of the day. I didn't say anything because my desk looks like a tornado
touched down at the top, waltzed across the center and then did a swan dive off
the "in" box.
There's the stack of address labels and stamps because I
lose them if they're not sitting right in front of my face, extra memory cards,
a box of Kleenex, two back scratchers, two address books and a typing stand
with really important stuff.
All of which is required. None of which could be thrown
away. So technically, I meet the standards of simple living.
Minimalism has its fine points but there's one thing I'll
have that my travel-light friend will always have to borrow from me – a working
Bic pen.