I’m already knee deep in the second month of the new year and I’ve barely had time to register that. All my resolutions still sit unresolved, my plans unplanned. I’m stuck in a rut, bound by routines and schedules of my own design.
This year was supposed to change all that, and yet here I sit. An open road lies ahead of me but I can’t even bring myself to pack my bags. Maybe writing it all down will give me the motivation I need. But routine is comfortable, isn’t it? Doing the same thing the same way, keeping something constant in an ever-changing universe.
Perhaps that’s the root of the problem. The last few years of my life have been defined by change that was not of my own planning. So I retreated into regularity, allowing myself an illusion of control, a sense of power over my circumstances. But life loves its ironies, so now the very routines that I sought to control have me powerless in their grasp.
And now that I’m actively seeking change, it all seems so daunting. Once I step out of that comfort zone, an entire world will await me, full of wonder and beauty, but also uncertainty. Will it be worth it? Or will I be better off sticking to what I know?
Whatever the answer, I’d better decide fast, lest another month or another year whiz past and leave me behind. It frightens me to think of myself as an old man brimming with regret, lamenting the life that he never lived, opportunity knocking its knuckles raw as he timidly refused to open the door.
I can hear time ticking away, getting ready to slip through my fingers again. Guess I’d better grab my running shoes.