Packing and unpacking

Working with objects and environment to process special events

I am a lazy unpacker. Embarrassing as it is, after most trips, my suitcase will remain open on my bedroom floor for a week or more as I cherry-pick items to use, or wash, or eventually to put away.

I have the same habit with my concert bag. Though essentials get repacked immediately, I can be very slow to empty even this tiny purse of its spare batteries, fan-made gifts, and confetti mementos.

Cough drops over candy

At a certain point I realized I was reluctant to let go of my experience. Once that clear concert bag goes back in the closet, the festive contents disappear from view, like I’m symbolically moving on from the show even though that’s not how I feel. Once the swimsuits go back in a drawer and the suitcase is stowed away, everything in my environment goes back to how it was before the vacation—like it never happened.

I’ll take a few days (or more…) of untidiness for the sake of the pleasant reminders. Or, in some sense, the illusion that the experience isn’t really over.

Preparation is so much easier. It can build anticipation. Planning special outfits, packing your bag, making travel plans. The action is automatically paired with the meaning of the anticipated event. Anticipation is usually the most emotionally intense phase of experiences (Van Boven & Ashworth, 2007). The feelings associated with getting ready are more potent, I would even say more focused, compared to those that come with unpacking.

Still, putting away special-use or memory-infused items could easily prompt reflection. So maybe some people already find unpacking to be meaningful and helpful, no embellishment needed.

To me, there is a layer missing to the act of “putting away.” Especially for events that hold a greater significance or emotional depth. I crave some kind of resolution, one that isn’t reflected in the normal process of putting things as they were before anything happened.

Because inside, I am not the same. I am a little different now.

I once had the idea that I might feel better about unpacking if I built up more of a ritual around it. But I never took up the challenge. Until now, with you, dear Afterpartiers.

Soon I’ll be going on several trips with about a week or less between each. I know those days will go fast. If I am going to take the time and be really intentional about settling down from one experience before diving into the next, I have to plan it.

Besides, I’ll need to repack my suitcase whether I like it or not.

I checked in with my friend Jan Stanley to make sure I was laying the right foundation for my ritual. Jan is a professional celebrant and faculty member of the University of Pennsylvania’s Master of Applied Positive Psychology program. She specializes in the use of ceremony and ritual to enhance well-being for individuals, groups, and communities. In other words, this is exactly her thing.

Here is Jan’s explanation of a personal ritual:

“I think of it as a vehicle for enhanced well-being, especially for experiencing emotions and immersing in meaning. For these purposes, I think of rituals as having a beginning and end, an intention or purpose, and as something we do with full presence. In other words, a ritual is a purposeful activity with a defined beginning and ending, performed mindfully.”

Step one: I am definitely going to need a soundtrack. Music is the best tool I know to transition mood and mindset. Each of my trips will get a playlist. I will start with songs to play when I’m packing to dig into my anticipatory experience. The music will represent how I want to feel while I’m on that trip, and what thoughts I want to center on.

Then, I’ll plan to use my homeward travel time to extend that trip’s playlist. Through music, I’ll think about what feelings I want to hold on to and what I’m already experiencing in the transition back.

This will give me a musical journey while I unpack and repack: the experience of the travel I’ve just finished, starting with its anticipation phase, and finally flowing into my intentions for my next trip. Turning on the music can mark the beginning of my ritual.

Now about the stuff.

Jan told me about how she honors a recurring trip of her own through special items:

“I am fortunate to have multiple events in Hawaii each year. So I do have a post-Hawaii ritual which is to unpack, keeping my suitcase out and visible while I launder the clothing that I wore. I then, as a ritual of continuation, repack my Hawaii bag with clothing and a few accessories that I only wear in Hawaii. I do this with both gratitude for the recent experience, as well as anticipation for my next trip.”

It’s not that I couldn’t apply this idea to my upcoming travels. There are certain items that I really only use for this one type of work event, for instance. But as I’ve been contemplating Jan’s example, I’m realizing that I want to honor the mess. My thoughts and feelings don’t have to be wrapped up neatly right away. I think it’s okay to embrace the disorganization for a little while.

So I am going to clear a side table in my bedroom to temporarily transform it into my Shrine of Disarray.

As I unpack from each trip, the things I won’t need for the next one will become offerings for the shrine. The mess will accumulate. Work gloves, earplugs, journals and pens, souvenirs, a fuzzy animal print bucket hat, conference swag, a playbill, business cards. Whatever I am not willing to put away yet will at least still have a place.

Now, to mark my ritual’s ending. I can’t rely on a particular final song on my playlist, because I am not sure how long it will take to unpack. So I think I’ll say a short blessing instead. “In disarray; it’s all okay.”

It will probably feel weird. But I want to try it. I could use more ceremony in my life.

I was struck by Casper ter Kuile’s perspective on this in The Power of Ritual (2020). He points out that in modern society, “the number of occasions we deem worthy of ritual [is] embarrassingly small,” yet our “human hunger for meaning” has not diminished. He wonders if this is why the stress around wedding planning has increased, as it’s become the “one day in our lives when we’re actively engaged with designing a ceremonial experience” (p. 15).

Little moments can be worthy too. My contained messiness could have some meaning too.

Just don’t ask me about when I’ll put it all away!

UPDATE:

Dealing with the disarray

Party-starter guide: the Stuff we take home

Merch, swag, gifts, materials, souvenirs… we all know they can range anywhere from irreplaceably precious to somewhat useful to literal garbage. If you are a designer deciding what kinds of stuff people might like to take home with them, try adding these considerations into the mix:

• What might people need, or find comforting, for their transition from your experience back to the real world? (Like a neck pillow for the flight home, which also allows fellow participants to recognize each other on their journey.)

• What could be useful for later personal integration and reflection? (Like a journal with customized prompts, or scrapbooking materials.)

• What could extend the experience, or add context or depth for participants? (For example, in a recent Instagram Story, Priya Parker praised a stage production for selling relevant books at their merch table.)

• If your experience is recurring, what’s something that could be reserved for use—or designed for optimal use—only at those times? (Like my BTS lightstick that syncs to the music at a concert via Bluetooth.)

• What feels simply delightful every time you see, touch, or use it? (Like my aforementioned fuzzy animal print bucket hat. Yeah, it’s merch!)

Afterparty talk

How do you feel about unpacking after a trip or storing items away after a special event? Do you have any tricks for making this easier? Any rituals of your own or ideas for mine?

Party on

Share this post to keep the conversation going.

References

ter Kuile, C. (2020). The power of ritual: Turning everyday activities into soulful practices. HarperOne.

Van Boven, L. & Ashworth, L. (2007). Looking forward, looking back: Anticipation is more evocative than retrospection. Journal of Experimental Psychology: General, 136(2), 289-300.