I don’t know when I became so predictable.
Maybe it was when I started waking up at the same time every day. Or when I realized I had a favorite coffee order. Or when I caught myself saying, “Let’s circle back to that,” in a meeting for the tenth time that week.
It’s not a bad thing, routine. It keeps things moving. It makes life efficient. But sometimes I wonder: at what cost?
Here’s the thing about routines—they’re safe. Comfortable. They let you feel like you’re in control. But they also trap you. When every day looks like the last, it’s like walking the same well-worn path over and over until you forget what the rest of the world looks like.
I was thinking about this recently, about how much of my life feels pre-scripted. Not in the dramatic, the universe is against me kind of way, but in the subtle, this is just what I do now kind of way. And it made me wonder: how often do I let chaos in?
Not the bad kind of chaos. I’m not talking about wrecking your life for no reason. I mean the kind of chaos that shakes you awake. The kind that reminds you life isn’t a to-do list.
It’s been a long time since I’ve really let myself wander. Not just physically, but mentally. When was the last time I let myself be surprised? Or—better yet—when was the last time I invited surprise?
The older I get, the smaller my circle becomes. I don’t mean just the people I talk to, though that’s part of it. I mean the ideas I let in. The places I go. The questions I ask. It’s all become so … manageable.
And I hate it.
I hate how easy it is to stay in my lane. To stick with the conversations I know. The places I know. The habits I know. It’s not that any of it is bad; it’s just that none of it surprises me anymore.
But here’s the thing: life isn’t supposed to be predictable. At least not all the time.
I remember this one moment—it’s stuck with me for years. I was on a trip I hadn’t planned, with people I didn’t know well, doing something I’d never done before. Everything about it felt unfamiliar, a little uncomfortable, and completely exhilarating.
That trip changed something for me. It reminded me how alive you can feel when you let go of control. When you stop trying to steer every moment and just let things unfold.
The truth is, the best stories come from the unexpected. The moments you couldn’t plan even if you tried.
I’m not saying you should abandon all structure or throw your life into chaos for fun. But maybe, every once in a while, you should step off the path. Take a route you’ve never walked. Talk to someone you’d normally pass by. Do something—anything—that doesn’t fit the script.
Not because you’ll always find something amazing, but because you never know when you might.
That’s the magic of it. You can’t predict what will come out of the random, messy, beautiful moments. And honestly, that’s the point.
By the way, if this rambling has you wondering how all this ties back to anything I’ve ever done, it doesn’t. Not directly, anyway. But if you want to see how one random experiment I did sparked a series of surprising conversations, check this out.
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