Living in Bowling Green, I'm tempted to settle into a routine that doesn't really fit me. It's the one I would have lived if I'd followed my old instincts – I made little effort. I waited to be told what to do. Passion rarely gave way to hard work.
With ease and comfort comes boredom. I've grown bored. Only boring people get bored. I'm offended by my boredom.
I mourn the loss of adventure. This was my first summer working full time, and I'm committed to this period of my life when weeks-long road trips will be fewer and further between. And that's okay because, as Ben and I have reviewed our priorities, we agree that one big summer is fun, but it's not sustainable. We want our day-to-day, month-to-month to include the adventurous living we enjoy so much. And hey, guess what, I'm not a freelance writer and he's not a computer whiz who can work from anywhere, USA. We will have to have roots of some kind for some time.
That scares me a little. What if ... I'm actually boring or unadventurous? If a boring person gets bored, maybe unadventurous people don't have adventures.
Tim Challies recently presented two separate thoughts that keep me pondering:
No. 1: "This is our temptation in all areas of life: To look for the quick fix, to look for the one or the few great moments that will accomplish more than the hundreds or thousands of smaller moments. Anthony Trollope, the nineteenth-century writer who managed to be a prolific novelist while also revolutionizing the British postal system, observed, 'A small daily task, if it be daily, will beat the labors of a spasmodic Hercules.' Over the long run, the unglamorous habit of frequency fosters both productivity and creativity."
No. 2: Boredom stems from a lack of wonder. In talking about his children, he writes, "It makes me see that the challenge with our children is not to find things that will entertain them, but to find things that will impress them." He says it's true, boring people are boring. Curiosity sits opposite.
In college, before that, and now in Kentucky, I relied on special occasions for adventure. Weekend getaways, summer-long trips. And in the in-between? What then? I've learned so much from those experiences – things I never would have noticed if the growth had been slower. I had to be thrown off a cliff, and that's how I preferred it. But it is still the quiet daily choices you make that really say who you are?
Years ago, I advocated for adventuring in life's white space. It's been hard in practice because I haven't broadened the definition of adventure to include the place I live every day, people who don't share our passion, big-kid jobs, and unimpressive landscape. I won't pretend to turn southcentral Kentucky into an adventurous place to live. When Ben graduates in May, we're going West or North, and I will continue to dream about that future.
For now – right here, where I am on a Sunday afternoon trying to turn thoughts into words into action steps, I just want things to be different.
About six weeks ago, I quit my second job and went to 32 hours at the newspaper, allowing me to focus on writing and reporting. I've received a gift of roughly 20 hours a week that I was working. So I guess I'll start with that, dig into the curiosity I've relegated to my work, and practice wonder.
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