- Kayt

- 1 hour ago
- 4 min read
Campfire Chat: Life Is Heavy. Pack Light.
The world has been pretty heavy around the Field Trip campfire lately.
Many of us are carrying hard things: difficult diagnoses for loved ones, sudden deaths of friends, financial hardships, relationships needing extra care, threats of wildfires and data centers in our communities, and the death of a pet.
Even the good stuff can feel heavy sometimes: upcoming vacations, weddings, building a home, starting a new hobby, and a new baby in the family.
We are a small, close-knit team, and what happens to one tends to happen to all of us. We share the celebrations, and we share the weight of the difficult stuff. I don’t think any of us would have it any other way. But it does mean our little team is a bit fragile right now.
So this month’s Campfire Chat feels a little different. There is grief here. And worry. But there are also national parks and new adventures and really good people stepping up for one another.
There’s even a new tent camper. Pull up a chair.

🌿 On My Mind
How do we show up for one another while keeping ourselves healthy?
How do we celebrate good news when someone else is hurting?
How do we do the work when it’s hard just to get out of bed?
Our Head of Outpost Operations (we don’t do boring titles around here), Coretta, recently wrote Tiny Field Trips for Heavy Days, and I’ve been leaning pretty hard into her advice to “start insultingly small.”
On the hard days, I do exactly that. On the better days, I do more.
I forgive myself when the laundry piles up. I apologize when I can’t muster the energy to return a phone call. I give myself grace when my body just can’t do one more thing.
And I breathe.
More on that in a minute.
🛞 On the Ground
We have a new toy.
Although calling Scout a “toy” already feels a little rude because we love him an unreasonable amount.
Scout is our new SylvanSport TraiLOFT microcamper: part rooftop tent, part lightweight gear trailer, part tiny Field Trip correspondent.
Scout has already landed his own recurring Field Trip series, Out and About with Scout, where he’ll roll into parks, campgrounds, trails, visitor centers, scenic overlooks, and wonderfully weird roadside stops and report back on what you should know before you go.
His first assignment was Mammoth Cave National Park, where my husband and I learned that 500+ underground stairs are an extremely effective cardio program.
Scout will be back with more adventures soon.
Disclosure: I’m a SylvanSport ambassador, which means I’m compensated for introducing readers to Scout’s wider family of rooftop tents, campers, and camping gear. But, just like everything you read about in Field Trip, we only suggest brands and products to our readers that we ourselves have used and love.
🕯 Inside the Tent
Speaking of ridiculously smitten...Can we talk about Coretta for a minute?
In addition to holding down the fort as our Head of Outpost Operations, she has officially started writing for Field Trip—and wow, has she taken some weight off my shoulders this month.
In addition to Tiny Field Trips for Heavy Days, which explores depression, the outdoors, and what happens when even “go outside, you’ll feel better” feels like too much, she also launched Asking for a Friend, a new column devoted to those oddly specific environmental questions you might be slightly afraid to ask out loud.
Can you take a shell from the beach? Wear thrift-store clothes without washing them? Refill disposable water bottles? Leave your dog-poop bag beside the trail if you promise you’re coming back for it?
Coretta has answers. Without the guilt trip.
She’s also tackling back-to-school season and just wrote about the National Park Service turning 110 on August 25, including how to join the celebration during National Park Week.
Having another person who understands what Field Trip is trying to do—and can take an idea and run into the woods with it—has been an enormous gift.
Coretta, I am so incredibly grateful you’re here.
🧭 Trail Markers
Meanwhile, our Director of Social Storytelling, Julie, spent 16 days rafting the Grand Canyon with her husband and friends.
Sixteen.
Days.
Rafting.
The.
Grand.
Canyon.
Whoa.
She is now on her way to Alaska because Julie isn’t one to sit still.
We’ll be hearing much more from Julie about the Grand Canyon adventure in the coming weeks, and I cannot wait. There are some Field Trips you take for an afternoon. And then there are the ones that rearrange something inside you.
I suspect this might have been one of those.
🪵 Kindling
A few little things keeping the fire going around here:
Scout tucked into his tiny campsite.
Watching someone you believe in find her voice as a writer.
Friends who understand when you disappear for a little while.
National parks turning 110.
Planning the next Field Trip.
Hearing about adventures so big they make you want to pull out a map.
Giving ourselves permission to do less.
Remembering that joy and grief are perfectly capable of sitting beside each other.
That last one has been important lately.
🏕 Basecamp
My yoga- and meditation-loving mama has given me one piece of advice several times over the past few months: “Breathe.”
For whatever reason, it hits differently than calm down or relax.
Thích Nhất Hạnh said, “The best way to take care of the future is to take care of the present moment.”
That’s what I hear when my mom tells me to breathe.
Because sometimes we can’t fix what’s happening. We can’t make someone well. We can’t bring someone back. We can’t know how everything will turn out. And we certainly can’t carry everyone we love and every worry about tomorrow all at once.
But we can be here right now.
🎒 Packing Out
So that’s what I’m carrying out of this month.
Start insultingly small. Forgive yourself for the laundry. Let the phone call wait when you need to. Celebrate the new baby and the wedding and the tiny camper even when other parts of life hurt. Show up for your people when you can. Let them show up for you when you can’t. And breathe.
Breathe in forgiveness.
Breathe out fear.
Breathe in strength.
Breathe out worry.
Breathe in peace.
Breathe out what you cannot control.
Tomorrow will ask what it asks of us.
Today? Breathe.





