I feel like I’m hard-wired to be routined. Like if I did absolutely no introspection, I’d ride life’s expected, predetermined path for an average human my age and demographic. I’d stick to the places I know, the foods I already like, and the ideas I’ve already heard. If it weren’t for the voice in my gut screaming for more, I would be incredibly unremarkable. I’d be an empty rind, vacant of my own self.
This world tells us to smush our dreams into broom closets. We’re taught to incinerate our aspirations in the fire of familiarity. Our self-expression is expected to be zipped up under our trendy raincoats, to avoid spilling out all over our workweek. We’re told—screamed at, really—to stay in line. Most of us do. Familiarity feels comfortable. It’s safe. No chance of screwing up. If we stay home, we can’t get caught in the rain.
We grow in our familiarity like sick, twisted bonsai trees, committed to a single square foot of land, forever to be fed only as prescribed. It becomes awfully difficult to chase our ambitions when we’re chained to the floor of our plush and pleasant lives. And so, today we chose conformity again.
Yet there are adventurers. There are some humans (I try very hard to be one of them) who hunger for the undiscovered. We seek the unknown, bounding towards blind corners and diving fearlessly into uncharted seas. We visit new cities and sample unexplored flavors. We perpetually seek newness.
New feels grand. It invokes a type of polaroid-joy reserved for mountaineers and sunkissed people. Newness is a swashbuckling brand of luxury. As someone who was programmed to be stale, I’m certain we can conquer our own toleration of familiarity. We can get over being okay with boring.
Let anything banal empower your mission for newness. Flip the script—feed today’s familiarity to the fire of your aspirations. Try one new thing each week. Energize your dormant dreams by trading familiar for new.