Surprises

Children are conservative inasmuch as they require stability in order to feel secure and therefore generally prefer things to stay the same. They need ritual and familiarity.

(Savage, Dan. The Commitment. New York: Plume, 2006. 129)

Okay, so I'm far from being a child these days, but some things have stayed with me since I was.

As far back as I can remember, I have felt the need for ritual, familiarity, and stability. One of the most unsettling things my mom would do when I was a kid was to re-arrange my room while I was at school. I'd come home, and everything would be different, and I hated it. To her credit, my mom was simply trying to re-organize things and freshen the room up, but that didn't affect how I felt about the change.

Ritual and familiarity are immensely comforting to me (it's exactly these elements that are part of why Catholicism remains such a refuge for me).

Surprises, on the other hand, are hit or miss--and more often the latter than the former.

Most people I know love surprises. Surprises make me nervous. Even when I like what the surprise is, that doesn't often act as enough of a mitigating force in relationship to the unsettling process of being surprised.

I know, I know, this makes me kind of boring. Sometimes really boring, in fact. I've been working on being more open to surprises and spontaneity--slowly, but surely.

This summer, one way in which this took form was a trip to Boise, Idaho.


Boise isn't exactly on most people's top five vacation destinations, but I had a wonderfully good time there. It's been the highlight of my summer so far, and a trip I know I'll remember for some time to come.

It's certainly helped me gain a new perspective on surprises and spontaneity.