So much of my life is routine; like I’m living on autopilot. The crazy thing is, because I live so many minutes of each passing day without thinking, I don’t even realize how routine and mundane much of it is.
I wake up everyday, well, nearly everyday, at the exact same time. I roll out of bed, throw some clothes on, come to the computer, turn it on, and then go get something to eat. I eat cereal for breakfast. Not so much because I’m a huge cereal fan. More because it requires little effort, and therefore, doesn’t mess up my morning routine. By the time my cereal is poured, my computer is on. I sit and eat, and check my email.
After email is checked I usually spend an hour or two submitting voice-over auditions. Then I spend an hour or two looking for things to talk about on my radio show. At 12:30p I make a sandwich. Either that, or I drink a glass of milk. It depends on whether or not I remembered to by bread. At 1p, I hit the shower and get ready for work.
I drive the same way to work most days. I’ve discovered several routes over the past year I’ve been working at FM 92.1, but mostly I travel one route now. It seems to be the quickest. My work day is all routine too. Weather at the same time. Traffic at the same time. News at the same time. Features at the same time. It’s all routine. I could do much of my show with little, to no effort.
There is a comfort in the routine I suppose. A familiarity. It’s my calendar. Ask me what day of the week it is, I can tell you only based on what I did that day. It’s invaded every area of my life even. For example, when I’m in the shower, I wash my right arm first… I’m left handed, so I assume that is why. Without thought, without purpose or intention, I always wash my right arm first.
I’ve been in a funk for a week or two. Like a bit of a daze or something. Not that I’ve been sad or depressed or anything like that. It’s just been a funk. We all go through them from time to time. I blame it on the fact that I’ve now started counting down the days until my vacation. That’s just never a good idea! Suddenly, the days get longer, the routine feels even more mundane, and it seems like no matter how far I outstretch my hand, my vacation still isn’t quite within it’s grasp. That’s enough to throw anybody into a funk.
Today I decided to break the routine. It seemed the best way to break the funk. So I jumped in my truck about 10 or 15 minutes early and I decided I was going to find a new way to work. I had no idea where I was going, I just figured if I kept heading west, eventually I’d end up in Brantford, or somewhere close to it.
Have you ever just set out somewhere with no plan? It’s one of the most freeing, exciting things you can do. It’s a little like reliving your childhood, when everything was new. Everything was an adventure. Each place, each object, each person was a new discovery waiting to be made. Life was filled with mystery, anticipation and new car smell. That was how I felt today.
I traveled roads whose crests and curves I did not know. They made me take notice. I saw fields of fresh cut hay, whose smells took me back to my grandpa’s farm where I practically lived as a child. I drove one stretch of long country road that was lined so thick and tall with trees it felt as though I was journeying through a tunnel. There were big houses and small houses, old houses and new.
At one point, I road along side a young man on a dirt bike. He on a field trail, and I on the road. The dust kicked up behind him like a cloud. I flashed back to my days on a dirt bike speeding down the lane to the back field on the farm. He traveled much faster on his bike than I ever did on mine; I clocked him at 85km/h.
A group of cyclists pedaled one of the roads. It was fitting. Back-roads, peaceful and undisturbed provide a solitude and safety one can’t find on busy streets and highways. They seemed to be in some kind of race. Each of them wearing bright colored clothing, sweat dripping from their brows as they leaned forward on their bikes with a focused determination in their eyes. Cars lined the side of the road further down the way. People stood waiting with cameras. It was the finish line for the race, and it was the perfect metaphor for my own ride today. As they crossed the line to end their race, I too was hoping to cross a line and bring about an end of my own.
My final destination was 30 minutes from my home. Yet, I traveled down roads today that I didn’t even know existed. I saw parts of the county I had never heard of, nor, was I even aware of. I saw beauty all around me. Beauty that I’ve driven around 5 days a week for a full year on my way to work. Not that I was trying to miss it on purpose, just that I had never bothered to try and find it. I let my routine rob me, until today. The day I took a road not traveled.
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