An interesting question popped into my head the other day and as I thought to google it, I realized my phone was not close by. It was in the other room, a few feet away. The conundrum in front of me is a simple and small one that I am sure some of you have experienced. And, hopefully, some of you can relate to what I chose to do: I stayed right where I was. I figured, I’ll just remember this for later or maybe even have a sharper question once the ideas toss around in my head for a bit. I couldn’t be bothered to move the few feet to the other room—that was too much work for the moment.
Well, reader, I am sure you know how this ended. My question is now lost to my subconscious, and I definitely did not continue to think about it as I hoped I would. My attention immediately leapt to another thing, and the rest is history. It’s a silly example, but I offer it here because I haven’t forgotten about this fork in the road moment and my choice to take the path of least resistance. It feels emblematic of the fact that we are steeped in times of hyper-convenience. The path of least resistance is a compelling force, but should we adhere to its call?
In a moment where I was hungry for learning and engaging new ideas, I chose to forsake those inclinations and take it easy, despite there being no other obstacles at play. A step or a stretch outside of my ultra comfort zone would have left me still chugging along, if not more engaged and excited about the connections I could have made.
What benefits may come from stretching outside of our zones of convenience? What might we gain from reaching out towards each other, even if it is not our initial reflex? I wish us all the energy that we need to take our metaphorical and literal first steps to find out. When we walk into another room, there might be more waiting there for us than we ever anticipated. May we dare to stretch, even if that means starting small. Remember– you just have to start.