Wake up.
Brew coffee.
Jump in the shower…jump out.
Dry off.
Get dressed wearing the exact same outfit you wore last week.
Walk into the kitchen. Eat cereal, drink coffee, head to work.
Sit in traffic. Pissed, moaning, and regretting the long, boring day ahead.
“Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.”
Sip your coffee.
Beep the horn.
Turn the radio up, turn it off.
Look out the window.
Think about rolling it down. “Ay, too many car fumes.”
Stuck in traffic, unable to move, this moment reminds you of the days ahead.
Black smoke thickening into the subtle exhaust of inactivity.
Will every day be like this?
You feel powerless among the stagnant vehicles.
Claustrophobic, trapped against your will. All you want is the freedom to move.
Why isn’t traffic moving?
Why aren’t you?
Inch by inch, cars move closer to where you don’t really want to be.
Arriving late for work because of some “stupid wreck”, you clock-in and walk towards your desk.
You look around.
Ugh, same stupid faces as yesterday and the day before that and before that and before that.
“How’s it going today?” one of the stupid ones ask.
You regret to inform him, “Good.” (The same reply to that same, thoughtless question for the last month.)
Don’t people have anything else to talk about? (The extent of your day’s wonder goes unnoticed by none other than you.)
Sitting down at your desk, the motion feels monotonous.
Repetition, repetition, repetition: the key to success.
At least that’s what you keep reading…
Doing this enough times is sure to kill you…… oh, how you await the sweet joy of release. Retirement is only a few decades away.
The pitch black computer screen awaits your approval, a finger’s press, and the most reluctant decision to turn it on.
Emails, pointless paperwork, and four hours are all you have to look forward to until lunch.
Sigh….and then 5 more hours.
Welcome to the Death of Adventure.
Where dreams go to die.
Every Monday to Friday from 8 to 5.
The only place where your best friend is your boss and he’s always breathing down your back.
Two paychecks a month is all you have to look forward to.
Inspiration fades into expiration. Desire becomes drudgery.
Trapped between four grey walls, how could any of this be inspiring or motivating?
That’s the point.
Paperwork, emails, and continuous drudgery make John a dull boy.
The greatest comforts to look forward to are Friday night, Saturday’s recovery, and Sunday dinner.
Eat, drink, sleep. Eat, drink, sleep. Eat, drink, sleep.
All there is to look forward to.
Repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat.
Is literary repetition annoying you?
Try living it.
Having the same schedule from week to week, the future begins looking dim.
When plans never change, where is the excitement that freedom rings?
The death of adventure comes much quicker than we ever anticipate.
Sadly, our usual plan turns out to be as good as everyone else’s.
Born into a system we never dare to challenge, but rather unconsciously choose to believe works, the strength of our patriotism overrules even a great education’s best intentions.
The motto of tradition still bellows recklessly, “If it worked for my parents, it will work for me!”
In following the pack mentality, we all walk the safe route of routine: graduate high school, go directly to college, sink into student loans, get married, buy a house, pump out a few kids, and then, slowly suffocate under the weight of all we have voluntarily stacked on top of us.
Under the weight of security, we cannot even budge.
Did our choices involve conscious a decision-making process or are we socially-structured to perform what we are “supposed to do”?
Did we ever allow ourselves a chance at liberation or personal freedom? Or was it just one unconscious decision after the other?
Placing our dreams on the back burner of a cold stove, money has become the only element in our broken existence.
Having so much debt over our heads, our will is meager and now, easily controlled by others.
Putting our jobs before our friends, family, and worst of all, ourselves, we simply cannot imagine going more than two weeks without a paycheck.
Our relationships suffer. We suffer. And the work never stops.
Adventure takes the backseat to an abusive, out-of-control, and possibly drunk driver.
By the time we are thoroughly exhausted and unsatisfied with the way we are headed, we will settle for anything but our current path.
In these situations, we can be confident that our inner peregrine is looking for a way past the barricade blockading it.
Only, it doesn’t remember what to do.
It has been stuck on the same path so long, it has trouble imagining that it can divert.
Peter Panning has forgot about the inner Peter Pan.
But, remember!
You built this wall and you can tear it down.
The biggest question that I get asked, “Is it too late?”
It’s never too late.
Start now.
Create a new plan. Start rebuilding.
But, “how do I escape this horrible routine? Where do I go? Where will I go? And then, what will I do?”
Ahhh… now these are better questions.
These are questions you should be asking.
Cheers, in hoping you find a build a better path.
Cheers, if you already have or you are on your way.
Either way, embrace change and stick with it.
Choose your own adventure. It starts as soon as you decide.
About Stephan Stansfield
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