Adaptability as Hubris

We are, on the whole, extremely adaptable species. You’d have to be to survive the millennia.

In travel, it’s not a good thing. I know, hear me out.

We strive so hard to find new places to appease that desire for excitement and thrill. But we arrive and after a few days, it wears off. Why? Our minds adapt too quickly to our new surroundings. You can only see something for the first time once. Each time after that, our brains categorize it. File it away among the other places it resembles.

After just a few days of thrills, we miss the comforts of home. We lose the awe of the current destination.  The couple in the lobby remind you of the neighbors. Rosa’s Cantina tastes delicious but not as good as the little diner across the street from your house. Cities are cities. Towns are towns. And everything runs together.

We adjust. Form habits. Just as we start to always bring a raincoat in Seattle, and check for ticks after a hike in the forest, we adjust inside. Our minds. Quickly altering to accept new realities.

You’re ruining the fun.

Let go of the camera, forget the annoying children sitting behind you, and just breathe. Taste the air. Salty. Fresh. Smoky. Thick. Cold. Warm. Close your eyes and listen. The rumble of traffic. Waves slapping the deck. Feel the statue’s stone, the wooden rail. This moment will never exist again. A single blink of a lifetime. Slow down and let it wash over you.

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