It’s so easy to slip into routines. To normalize the day to day shit and before you know it years go by and nothing remarkable has happened. When you immerse yourself in consuming the same things, you continue to feed that level of nothing.
It becomes a comfort zone of input that doesn’t change a thing.
I admit I do that with the shows I consume from documentaries to sci fi, I’m sure Netflix has a very consistent profile on me.
I do that with the things I read too, familiar stuff that becomes as comfortable as a blanket.
And even when I look back on my traveled paths, thanks to Google maps for showing me I live in a prison of my own making.
Same stuff going in. Same stuff going out.
I remember raging internally whenever I visited relatives as a child. Their boring lives. Their boring stories. There was nothing new or exciting going on! I remember promising myself I wouldn’t fall into that trap. That it was a choice and I chose a different path.
And then I didn’t. And then I did. And then I didn’t.
I’m doing some pretty intense research for a project I’ve been working on for a client. While I can’t give away the details, it has me watching so many videos about Africa, learning so many things fast about the various countries, tribes and cultures there.
It has me stepping outside of my white bread comfort zone with a zeal that I can only describe as running off the diving board and leaping into the deep end, my ability to swim as yet unknown.
And oh my god, how much do I love this time!
I feel nourished. Fed. Alive.
I have new thoughts. A new perspective. New ideas.
I need (NEED) to go to Africa, as many countries as possible, NOW.
But more, I need to see what else I’ve been missing. Take the filters off. Be uncomfortable.
I can see that if I was boring myself, boring Netflix too, then I wasn’t truly alive at all. And while I’m disassembling my life, so maybe not entirely boring here, I have a better idea of what the new life I am building will look like.
Not a self made prison.
I choose to see if I can swim.