Nobody signs up for monotony. It just… happens.

One. Habit. At. A. Time.

The same dark roast, one splash of milk, lukewarm by the second sip. The same playlist titled “Workout Jams” at the gym. The same gray stretch of highway. The same voices on the same scheduled calls.

I’ve honed that rhythm until it’s flawless.

I didn’t even notice it happening. It felt like structure. Like I had my life… together. But looking back at the last decade, the days blur, moments occur, a constant low hum whir. I worry about what I’ve chosen to .. defer. 

Everything feels… fine. Not amazing. Not horrible. Just a flat… line. A hum without a melody.

My routines. My rituals. Stable? Yes. Yet, my curiosity is silent. My world has shrunk to the size of a monitor.

I have confided myself to the same spaces until they felt liminal - like waiting rooms for a life that was happening elsewhere.

Same room. Same streets. Same faces.

I don’t notice the cage until I step out of it. 

That’s why travel always hit me so hard. Distance forces clarity. It shakes me awake. I am sleepwalking. All those choices made to build repetition, and how, in little ways, I’ve stopped yourself from trying.

Travel shows me the wonderful world outside the one I created. Yet, vacations never last.

Eventually, I have to pack the bag. I have to come home. Sometimes, the routine itself is the siren’s call - luring me back to the safety of the known. I adopt a few changes, place a souvenir on the shelf, and then the cycle repeatsI

So, I decided to break the cycle.

Two weeks ago, we pressed pause. A gap year. No work. No commute. Just me, my wife, and my son.

It’s been two weeks into this experiment, and I am breathing, at times hyperventilating but even then it’s fun. I don’t think I could have penned this without the silence - without the time to simply pause.

it doesn’t have to be black-and-white thinking. I realize that I don’t have to be in a novel place to change my perspective.

I don’t need a plane ticket to escape. All I need to do is shuffle my feet, crouch down, or stand on my tiptoes to look at what I am doing from a different angle.

The grass isn’t greener on the other side. It’s greener where you care for it - water it, patch it and give it sunlight. Even the most magical, inspiring place I’ve visited is “the boring backyard” of another person’s life.

So, I want to see the world. But, I also want to capture the adventure right here. To bring back spontaneity. To do something different.

It brings a smile back to my face. Every day felt new when I was a kid. I didn't need to change homes; I just looked at the world with hungry eyes.

I am excited to see what this year will bring. I certainly intend to explore more of the beautiful world out there with my family. But I know I cannot find the answer only there.

Because I want to widen the aperture of the world I’ve created. And the answer is inside of me, refusing to narrow it again.

Spontaneity is enriching. It’s accessible. And for the first time in a long time, it’s under my control.

Just a new perspective.

🧿