Every day, every mundane moment of your life holds a treasure waiting to be uncovered. Most people however, never uncover that treasure. They’re afraid of change and of excitement. They linger on the very edges of consciousness because it’s what seems comfortable to them. Life seems boring to those who stick to the easier, more simple path less traveled – but at least it doesn’t feel frightening.
You could go about skimming the surface of life, doing the same comfortable things over and over again, or you can choose to branch out and see what lies beneath the surface.
Just minutes before going to the cemetery for driving lessons, I’d commented on the fact that nearly all new, unusual experiences give me this weird out-of-whack, dreamlike sensation. It‘s as though I’m not really there; more just imagining what is happening. I’m never sure if the memories of unusual experiences are my reality or if they’re just memories of movies that I had watched years ago, late at night. This doesn’t cause me to avoid new experiences per say, but the sensation is very unsettling.
I want to feel like my life is concrete and real. I don’t want to think that my world can turn upside down in the blink of an eye. So I stick with familiar rituals which give me a sense of security.
But what is a life spent behind the closed door of familiarity? And what is the meaning of this strange, misplaced in-limbo sensation? Maybe it’s just me experiencing the effects of my inability to handle the quickness of life. Perhaps the out of whack feeling is caused by the mental stress of grasping just how fast everything changes and moves.
The day was just another regular day around town, shopping for laminate sheets and notebooks, then practicing driving skills at the cemetery. We stopped by the Conrad tomb to take a look at the final resting place of Kalispell’s founder and his wife and were walking around when I spotted a trail leading into a wooded area nearby. My venturesome side was attracted to this mysterious trail to who-knows-where.
“What’s this?” I thought and began down the trail, soon followed by Mom.
Steps made of pink stone appeared and we descended farther down the hillside.
At the end of the trail we discovered a marshy area and a body of water that apparently feeds into the river. There were trails along the bank leading all-over through the trees.
We had stumbled upon a new place – a hidden world that had been right in our backyard all along. Our regular routine had been interspersed with an adventure into the unknown.
The memory of our little trip to a new place isn’t uncanny to me now, since it was in a familiar place after all, but it does teach a lesson to seek out what you may feel a little too adventuresome at first. Expand your boundaries and see what you may find.