I have always had a small craving for spontaneity. I say small, because I am not the "wild personality type." I’m not one for parties, socializing can be difficult occasionally, I’m not reckless, and I dislike feeling like I’m not in control of a situation. But I also dislike feeling like I’m stuck in a routine. It isn’t horrible to set out a schedule for yourself. I can admit to needing some form of set times for things in order to not fall into a pit of procrastination. But I absolutely despair at the idea that I know exactly how my day is going to go. Such surety when it comes to every single day means that all I have to look forward to is tedium. And since I currently have no way of getting places by myself, I have to rely on other people to want to be spontaneous with me. And let me tell you, that is not as simple as it seems.
Either people are working, don’t have the car available to them, have guests coming over, or simply do not feel like going out, among a million and one other reasons. Of course, I don’t begrudge anyone the business that comes with living life – and I certainly have my fair share of busy days – but it can get frustrating. Spontaneity is hard to come by, and so I and others try to at least plan things that break the humdrum routine. However, planning things properly can get intensely complicated, especially the more people that are involved. Making plans in general can amount to no one being able to decide where to go, what to do, when to do it, and sometimes those plans can just fall apart! Let me tell you, there are few things more disappointing than making plans the night before and then having them amount to nothing the next day. It’s crushing, and should never be done to anyone ever unless there really is no helping it.
What this all amounts to is that I spend my days as I always spend my days, following my own little routine. So this week was truly incredible because I found myself not once, but twice (!!!) being picked up at the drop of a hat and spending a few hours on a mini-adventure with a friend. She’ll tell me delightedly that she loves traveling with me because I honestly have no set preference on where to go; I’m open to going anywhere and doing whatever. But it all simply comes down to me craving something different. So long as the company is good, and the going is nice, I have zero complaints. What’s sitting at home to a park on a sunny day with a baby boy and his nice parents laughing with you as the little boy tries to give your friend a rock? Why on earth would I want to stay at home watching TV when I could be walking up to the top of a parking deck with my friend just for a view of the city? Spontaneity doesn’t have to be huge. There isn’t some grand quota for it, or a set bar you have to be over in order to have fun doing something outside of your normal. It can exist in the little things. In walking into a store full of sitar music and healing rocks and walking out with a dollar fifty less than you walked in and two boxes of incense. It can be in your friend’s purchase of a this-screams-90s jacket on a whim, or the spotting of a whacky exhibit set up in the park. Spontaneity isn’t that hard to come by, so I’m hoping to fill my summer with it. After all, hula-hooping (poorly) in a Walgreens isn’t too much to ask for, is it?
