The Day I “Traveled Light” by Accident

You know those moments when you think you’ve finally mastered the art of travel? That was me last week. I landed, felt calm, cool, collected, practically gliding through the airport like I was auditioning for a commercial. No chaos, no rushing. Just me, my tote bag, and a sense of accomplishment.

I headed straight to the rental car counter, grabbed my keys, and strutted toward the parking lot. I thought to myself, Wow, Laura, you’re really traveling light. Who even needs all that extra stuff? Look at you, minimalist queen!

And then it hit me. Literally, it hit me in my gut. My suitcase. My actual luggage. My entire life in a rolling bag was still… spinning. Alone. On the carousel.

Cue the dramatic soundtrack. Suddenly, calm and collected turned into Olympic speed-walking back through the terminal. My inner dialogue? A mix of “How could I be so careless?” and “Please, Lord, let my suitcase still be there.”

There it was, circling the belt like it had been waiting for me all along. If luggage could roll its eyes, mine definitely would have. I scooped it up, gave it a loving pat, and promised never to abandon it again.

This time, when I walked back to the car, I held onto that handle like it was my firstborn child. Passersby probably thought I’d won the lottery with the way I was beaming. But really, I’d just retrieved my socks, shoes, and hair straightener from what could have been a permanent vacation in baggage claim.

The lesson? Slow down. Breathe. Life isn’t always about sprinting to the next thing. And if you ever want to feel true gratitude, leave your luggage behind once. Trust me, you’ll never take it for granted again.