Between considering the sacred and the profane and making the pilgrimage to South Bend, Indiana, there is a chasm. I try to fill it with research, reading, writing, making lists of things to do, things to pack:

black journal, three small black notebooks for recording photos, lined sheets of notebook paper on a clipboard, 100 3-by-5 cards, post-it notes, one dozen ballpoint pens, two mechanical pencils with replacement lead and erasers, three yellow highlighters, 24 fine tipped markers, 12 oil pastels, 48 charcoal sticks, 36 colored pencils, two pencil sharpeners, tablet of tracing paper, tablet of clear vellum, tablet of textured ivory cardstock, digital recorder, Flip video camera, Epson digital camera, Minolta 35 mm SLR camera, Canon 35 mm SLR camera, 15 rolls of color and black and white film in 200, 400 and 800 speeds, tripod, basketball tickets, Holiday Inn Express reservation, Morris Inn reservation, 3” three-ring binder with all my research notes and webpage printouts, Bible, dictionary, thesaurus, Book of Christian Prayer, Cousineau’s The Art of Pilgrimage, Sellner’s Pilgrimage, Eliade’s The Sacred and the Profane, The Way of the Pilgrim, Hesse’s Siddhartha, Nouwen’s The Way of the Heart, Singh’s The Path of Buddha, assorted power cords, USB cables, battery charger, AA and AAA batteries, Dell laptop, mouse, mouse pad, power pack, reading glasses

It takes a lot of stuff to create a travel journal. Somewhere in all of this, I’ll need to find room for a change of underwear and a toothbrush. I wander from my office to the bedroom and back packing and repacking my bags, three in all plus a suitcase. Marsha has laid out a short stack of clothing and two books, and now she’s busy getting food ready for the dog, the cat and our road trip. I start moving everything from the upstairs to the garage. Because she knows from years of traveling with me, it’s best to let me pack the car.

I’m always amazed that our car is just the right size for everything we need to take with us on our road trips, and everything has a perfectly crafted space—fitting together like a jigsaw puzzle. The only room left to fill is our seats, so we jump in and fasten our seat belts. As we pull out of the driveway, I’m running through the checklist in my head for the nth time. Marsha knows what I’m doing, and she says,

“If there’s anything we’ve forgotten, I’m sure we’ll be able to buy it if you need it that badly. Let’s go.”

Captions and Credits:
(Top) All our stuff for the journey. (Bottom) Ticket package for the basketball tournament.