The Shackles of Adventure

Lately, I have been coming to a sad realization: I’ll never be free from the shackles of adventure. I say this is a bad thing, because I don’t like adventuring all that much. I have reached a point where I refuse to get something different from the different fast food menus. Wendy’s is for chicken nuggets, Burger King is for Whoppers, and Subway is for ham and cheeses. If I get anything else, I feel a little sad. I know it sounds silly, but that’s where I’m at in life. 

Truth is, I have never been all that adventurous. I see adventure as a curse. For a while, I graduated to seeing it as a necessary evil–something that’s needed so that I can enjoy other stuff. I lived like that for a while, and it convinced me to dabble in new things for the sake of the old. I started trying new variations on my favorite recipes. Alright, I’m stretching the truth a little. I only had one recipe: my chili. But I did, in fact, learn different ways to make it, so it still counts. 

Over the last two years, I have learned that my hatred for adventure isn’t always good for me. At the end of the day, if you would rather stay inside all day than go out hiking, that’s fine. But if you’re hiding inside because you’re scared of bees that might sting your toes, that’s not good. That fear will drive you to places that you may not want to go. It’s kind of like trying to drive while only looking through your rearview mirror. You aren’t paying attention to where you’re driving to, just what you’re driving away from. And eventually, you will wind up hitting something. Of that, I can guarantee.

For me, new things mean danger. A soda I haven’t tried before might be poisonous, or worse: gross. A room full of strangers is a truckload of harsh comments and unwelcome glances waiting to fall upon me. And as far as the sandwiches go–well, they probably don’t taste as good as the classics anyway. You might say I’m a pessimist. You might say I’m fearful. Maybe you’re right. But above all else, I’m an addict. My drug of choice? Familiarity. 

As kids, we are told at every turn that we ought to break out of our comfort zones. We need to try new things and go on adventures. But more than that, we need to survive those adventures. We need to cherish the experience of new things. This, folks, I did not. I did lots of new things, but I never enjoyed them. I explored every inch of every city I visited all across Europe, but never had any fun. My favorite part of any trip was returning to the same hotel each night. That was my excitement, other than finally getting back to the dingy apartment we were forced to call home. 

What I got was an overdose of adventure. Now I resent it. My body treats new things like poison, preferring the old and familiar as though my life depended on it. But this is no way to live, no way to grow. Life is a path, and if every step is like walking on broken glass, how can I ever truly move? How can I reach the places that I might want to go? How will I ever get there if the journey is nothing but torture?One might be tempted to say that this way of living would take a lot of strength and endurance. At least, that’s how I have always approached it. I would grit my teeth, spit and get out there to get the stuff that needed to be done, done. It worked for a bit, but eventually I would burn out and slink back into my cave, only to repeat the whole thing again when I got miserable enough to try again. 

It’s a nightmare, this way of life. You build an empire, only to watch it fall as your strength leaves you. It makes me wonder: how could I do things differently? How can I develop a better relationship with adventure? How can I learn to truly enjoy new things? I don’t have it all mapped out yet, but the first step is to see that new things won’t kill us. That new ice cream flavor won’t cause a fatal allergic reaction, that new person won’t criticize your hair (if I had any,) and going for a walk won’t get you hit by a bus. That worst-case scenario that you keep imagining rarely happens. Even if it does, you have to tell yourself that it’s the exception, not the norm. 

The second step is similar: you have to realize that the world isn’t out to get you. There is no mystical force that is floating around, playing chess with your life to keep you from getting what you want. You may want big things that require a lot of work, but no one is out to stop you from getting them. No matter how much it feels like the universe is plotting and scheming to keep you from something, the fact of the matter is that this simply isn’t the case. 

This, then, begs the question: if things keep going wrong, whose fault is it? Well, there are two possibilities. The first is that there is no fault. Things just happen a certain way a lot. That’s how it goes. It’s hard to grasp this, but it’s how it goes. Sometimes, it takes a lot of no’s to finally get a yes. It’s a hard thing to hear, but it’s the truth. Sometimes you have to prepare yourself for that. Focus your attention on something else, something positive so that you can get through the disappointment. That’s how life goes. 

The other, however, you can change a lot: yourself. Maybe you’re trying to sell your rock album to a pop label. Bad move. It might be that you have things that you’re doing that are slowing you down. It’s always good to look inward to see what might need improving. But be careful in doing this, because sometimes you can create problems that aren’t actually there. Trust your gut. If nothing about your life is jumping out at you, then tell yourself you’re good and move on (unless, that is, you have a pride problem. Double check with a friend on that one.)

Most of the time, you’ll have a mix of these two things going on in your head. There may not be anything you could have done to fix the rejection you just got, but it may show you some other things that are going on in your head. Maybe it shows that you’re too passive. Maybe you need to go after a better option that you didn’t think was possible. Every situation in life is a good opportunity to reflect and see what’s going on deep inside your head. Just make sure to rewrite the story if need be. 

I hope your own relationship to adventure is better than mine. Heck, mine’s pretty bad, so it’s hard to imagine one that’s much worse. Either way, I hope you enjoyed this little blurb and that it bettered your life in some way.

Until Next Time

May Peace be your Guide.