Perhaps because of my family’s exceptionally strong planning genes, I love observing fellow travelers in unusual settings. Is that third suitcase really full of books? How is the person over there hiking for a whole month with that tiny pack? Did she just pull a full dinner for six out of her tote bag? (Truth be told, I have been all of these people).

Yesterday I attended a beautiful outdoor concert, with perfect weather, exceptional music, and a big grassy lawn for listeners. The guy next to me seemed, well, let’s just say, very well prepared. He was there on his own yet brought a whole wagon full of supplies, including a king-sized quilt, large folding chair, and more.

I settled in with a tiny bit of smugness, feeling light and breezy with just my towel-like blanket and water bottle. I’d taken some lessons to heart from that recent backpacking trip, where every ounce could sit heavy as a stone.

Ten minutes in, he reached into the cavernous depths of the wagon for a tasty snack, while I sipped my lukewarm water.

Then during a lull in the program, he pulled out a giant hardcover library book and read a chapter, while I reviewed the program for the 10th time.

At intermission, he fluffed up a large pillow and stretched out on the quilt for a little nap, while I tried to untangle my cris-crossed legs upon my tiny mat and get the feeling back in my toes.

Dear ones, there’s a time to pack light, so we can float through our world with ease. And there’s a time to bring all the comforts we can muster, to cushion our way. The trick is knowing which trip is which.

Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Sometimes things change midstream. Sometimes our planning is prescient, and sometimes it’s hilariously off-base.

Friends, may we pack wisely for the journey ahead.