Routines give me hives

Ever so often, I am reminded how much I love adventures and experiences. Most of the time those realizations happen when too much time has gone by without something significant occurring; I get antsy and a bit blue. Routines have never been my thing. Some people find comfort and security in a set schedule but, after a relatively short period of time, it simply makes me anxious and uncomfortable.

Camping in Big Bend

I looked up the definition of routine and found the terms: regular, customary, normal, usual, ordinary, typical, everyday, common, commonplace, conventional, habitual, and wonted. Honestly, those terms make me cringe. I want and need my life to be anything but routine. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not an adrenaline junkie. Nevertheless, we are here on this planet for just a short time and I want to experience life. Routines just seem to slow down the opportunities for new experiences. Although when an individual is open, new experiences can and do happen even during a routine day. It might be as simple as connecting with a stranger while waiting on line at the grocery store or observing the critters on the land; critters are sure to reveal some interesting behavior. I try to pepper my days with observations and interactions with all the inhabitants of our lovely spaceship earth.

Nevertheless, sometimes daily experiences just aren’t enough for me and I need adventures. I can honestly say I have always been like this. I remember living on a friendly street on Long Island and dreaming of adventures. At the age of five, I was preoccupied with designing and building an igloo on a neighbor’s lawn. I vividly imagined hiking down the block and building an igloo on the corner house’s lawn and living in it. I have always looked at the earth as my home and yearned to explore every part of it. This started with my block where I was known to walk into neighbors’ houses and make myself at home. Thank goodness everyone knew me and tolerated this behavior ~ remember I said I lived on a friendly block. A few years ago, I went to a reunion and many of my old neighbors had stories of finding me in their homes, just checking things out or getting something to eat. When I was six, my brother gave me a suitcase for my birthday. Yes, a strange gift from a sibling or perhaps he was telling me something. Regardless, I loved it, and all the big purple flowers on it. One day I packed it with my favorite blanket and headed towards the backyard. My Mom asked what I was doing. I said, “Going out to play.” I walked into the backyard and climbed over the fence and started walking, I was going to explore the world. I wasn’t running away, I was looking for adventure. A neighbor spotted me a mile away and told my Mom who soon picked me up. We later moved to a house in the woods and I spent countless hours exploring our backyard, often following our babbling brook for miles with my dog. The more I think about it, the more I yearn to go exploring. I guess that is just how I am wired.

Luckily, I have had the opportunity to explore various areas of my home ~ earth. In some cases, I have had the good fortune to even stay a bit longer (a year or so) in some areas but still feel like I have only seen the tip of the iceberg (only 10% of it appears above the water). And folks, I did once have the pleasure of kayaking near a bunch of icebergs in Alaska, perhaps too close. Boy, they really are big and can make a huge splash when they flip. I am looking forward to continuing my exploration with Mathew and Mike who love travel as much as I do; although, at times they seem more comfortable with routines than I do.