Late night dodgeball at Cal Anderson
Sometimes, I feel like I'm the biggest creature of habit I know. I tend to eat at the same restaurants (hi Smith!), hang out in the same neighborhood (hello Capitol Hill!) and spend most of my time with the same people. Since I'm also the same guy that happily re-watches the same movies and rereads the same books, this actually doesn't bother me. I have a nice little life that's usually pretty satisfying. Until it's not and then I reach for whatever book suits my mood. Last week, it was Douglas Coupland's Life After God. In it, he writes:
“Now: I believe that you’ve had most of your important memories by the time you’re thirty. After that, memory becomes water overflowing into an already full cup. New experiences just don’t register in the same way or with the same impact. I could be shooting heroin with the Princess of Wales, naked in a crashing jet, and the experience still couldn’t compare to the time the cops chased us after we threw the Taylors’ patio furniture into their pool in the eleventh grade. You know what I mean."
I know exactly what he means. Those feelings of intense wonder visit me less frequently as an adult. This summer, I'm going to change that. More midnight swims, more getting off Capitol Hill, more trips, more silliness, more saying YES! Friday night was a great reminder that those experiences can still be had, I just need to be a little more open to them.