My (Boring) (Adventuresome) Life

People often comment on what an adventurous life I live. I travel to weird places by most people's standards. I book myself on cool trips, find people to go with me, give trips as gifts as a secret way to do stuff, and sometimes even go alone (see dogsledding in Maine, kayaking Casco Bay, canoeing on the Charles, lighthouse climbing in Boston Harbor, whitewater rafting the Kennebec, zip-lining in NH). I find interesting hobbies, have interesting friends, volunteer, and engage in my community.

All of that is true. To be honest, though, I feel pretty boring most of the time. I have purposely created as simple a life as possible in order to reduce drama and stress. Mostly, I succeed at that. I have a lovely little apartment on a lovely little street near lots of greenspace, but still in the city with a lovely roommate who I really like. Neither of us own a lot of things and there's little clutter in our home. I have a simple little car (and a simple little loan to pay for it) that is easy to navigate, easy to park and easy to maintain. I have a small group of regular friends who don't contribute drama to my life. They are loving and caring and like to drink beer and host potlucks and talk about politics and movies.

I go to work, volunteer, go to the gym (these days), make a healthy dinner, occasionally bake something, check my email, write a blogpost now and again, watch Lost online (my simple life has resulted in no cable TV), and go for a walk in the park near my house. I gossip much less than I used to, I avoid "Did you hear about..." talk as much as possible, and I attempt to not create drama for other people as much as possible.

Unfortunately, this is not how I used to be. I used to love gossip (as long as I wasn't spreading lies and other people were not aware I was talking behind their backs, why did it hurt them?). I used to be in the center of the "Did you hear about..." discussion. I still harbor these tendencies, way down inside the teenager that still lives in a little room in my heart and always will. Last year, I had a friend who was full of drama. He claimed he wasn't. Claimed an allergy to it. Sure - to other people's drama. But he swirled in it - bathed in it every day. Created it at every turn. He complicated everything. And I got sucked in. Him going away has reverted me back to my days pre-him. And it feels weird.

And so, here I am, in my simple life, wondering if I've done something wrong to not have more action happening in my life at my age. I have just gotten fully engaged on FaceBook, and I've reconnected with lots of folks. Now, I'm not saying their lives are complicated or filled with drama, but they have kids and homes and husbands and wives and in-laws and all sorts of craziness going on. I don't have any of that. And I'm glad. Don't get me wrong. But am I somehow less mature - less developed - because I don't? And should I be somehow doing more? If Becky has a child and a job and a husband, and she just opened her own baking company on the side, what am I doing with my time? Shouldn't I somehow be saving the world or something amazing? What I'm doing is baking chocolate macaroons and finishing reading Revolutionary Road in a day and a half. Nice for me, but significant?

I'm not sure I even believe any of those thoughts in that paragraph up there. But there the ones that have been parading (uninvited, I might add), through my head all week. Part of me, the big part, I should clarify, is really pleased with simplicity. I hope to hang on to it for the rest of my life. This other little part, probably the part that still listens to that teenage self in my heart, is wondering when the BIG will happen and what it'll be.

And while all these thoughts are happening, I'm hatching my Mother and Father's Day adventure-trip gifts for this year and looking forward to that rafting trip in May. And spring. Bring on spring! The parks look lonely out there in my neighborhood! Simple tasks, simple anticipation, simple requests. That all feel really good.