Newness is the whole reason I’m here writing to you. And yet I do not like new things.
What about you?
When we decided to blow up life and move to Alaska it was because we wanted to do new things — new life, new career for Luke, new house, new people, new.
But if you know me outside of this blog, you know that I, Amy, do not like new things. At all. I like things that are exactly the same as the last time I did them. I like getting up at the same time. I like going to bed at the same time. I like ordering the same thing at the restaurant every time I go. I sit in the same spot at church, eat the same thing for breakfast each day, watch the same TV shows over and over again on Netflix, return to the same books. I am predictable.
I like predictable things. I don’t care that it makes me boring. I don’t care that it makes me a likely stalking victim. I like it anyway.
(Fine, now that I’ve listed all of those things, I’m feeling just a teensy bit embarrassed about it. Maybe I should cycle in a new show to my Netflix schedule.)
But I want to be a person who wants to do new things. I really do. I figured that if I moved to Alaska, I would be forced into all the new things and that, therefore, I would like them.
Retreating into predictably is a universal coping mechanism that transcends climate zone. If you want to try something new, you have to be purposeful. Moving to a new place is purposeful, that’s true. But when you get there?
Rather than being continually inspired now that we’re here, I’m overwhelmed by all the newness. It’s making me into a terrible Alaskan, and has given me a very strong fondness for my chair and iPad.
Hiding will always be easy for me. I bet it’s easy for you, too.
So here’s my challenge to you today: this week I’m going to try something totally new that will take actual effort — but not so much effort that it’s unachievable. You do the same, and we’ll check back in soon.