Sometimes the hardest part for me is the staying put part. I rebel so hard against structure and schedules and routine. I don't like to do anything in the same order I did it in the day before. For example: I mess with my alarm clock every night before I go to sleep just to make sure I don't somehow fall into an accidently complacent waking-up habit. It doesn't really seem like a terrible thing to have happen—a regular wake-up schedule—but for me that starts the slow walk toward death. (Okay, maybe death is a little dramatic, but glassy-eyed stupor might describe it.) And to me, complacency seems a fate worse than death.
A little bit of contented and settled might be nice once in a while though. Sometimes I walk really close to that line and get a short whiff of security—a heady scent in itself. It draws me in with its long finger and its warm blanket making alluring promises of stability and discipline and ladder-climbing. With whispers of dental benefits and 401ks and expense accounts. And really, what is the cost? Just a little bit of freedom, a tiny bit of autonomy, a small amount of choice, and a generous chunk of your soul. And many promises of, "It will all be worth it in the end."
That is, if this isn't it.
6 months ago