Packing Light (On Purpose)
Redefining what it means to leave something behind.
We came to Cassis during shoulder season, when the air was still crisp and the harbor was quiet. No lines. No jostling for tables. Just us, the fishermen, and a few sleepy gulls. But now the bees are buzzed, the flowers are flirting, and the tourists are flooding in like they just heard rosé was invented yesterday.
Spring is showing off. Summer’s preheating. And we’re folding laundry into packing cubes again.
We always knew this stop was temporary…they all are. But there’s something about leaving a place right as it blooms that gets me. Just when you know the baker well enough to get a wink with your croissant. Just when you stop pulling up Google Translate at every vegetable stand. Just when you feel a little rooted.
That’s when it’s time to move on.
In one of my first essays for Business Insider, "We retired early and started traveling the world. We're not planning to leave money for our 6 kids.", I wrote about our decision not to leave money for our six kids. One line from that piece still echoes through our choices…
“We decided to spend our money while we’re still here — with the people we love — instead of stockpiling it for a future we may not see.”
That story resonated with over a million readers — some cheering us on, others clutching their pearls. The point wasn’t to stir controversy. It was to tell the truth:
We’re not leaving behind a china collection or a trust fund. We’re not hoarding money so our children can inherit a padded life. Instead, we’re investing in this life — the one we’re living now, together.
We hope our kids inherit our curiosity. Our resilience. Our stubborn belief that joy matters. That adventure is worth the effort. That it’s okay to start over again and again and again.
We know this isn’t traditional. Plenty of people will think we’re selfish for not leaving behind more than stories and memories. But I’d argue that the stories are the wealth. They can take them farther than money ever could.
Let them say we lived lightly and loved hard. That we danced in kitchens and drank wine with strangers who became friends. That we never stayed past our season.
Because spring doesn’t last forever. And neither do we.
But we’re here now. Witnessing the world blossom. Packing light. On purpose.
What kind of legacy are you building — and who’s it really for?
Packing light isn’t just about luggage — it’s about living with intention. If you’d like to help keep the load lighter and the stories richer:
This is brilliant and really resonates for my chapter of life.
A legacy doesn't have to be money or property. Inheritance can be limiting - think of how it works out for many offspring of celebrities. Being solely responsible can also mean freedom.