Fashionista to Passionista

A dear friend related a story to me of her morning. A vibrant, insightful boomer who celebrated her 50th birthday a few days ago, she is breaking out of her comfort zone. Like the rest of us middle-aged crazies, she is looking to make her second half count. Her way to accomplish that today was to go to Starbucks.

Let me explain.

She usually stops in at Tim Horton’s on the way to the office. A creature of habit, like the rest of us, she finds it easy to fall into routine where thought is not required. The same way to work, the same drive-through Tim Horton’s, the same coffee. Well today, damn it, she thought, no! I will change it up. It may not have been an earth-shattering change, but it was a change nevertheless, an indication that she was making conscious, deliberate decisions, not living by rote.

And did this small shift in behaviour, this tiny adjustment in destination, culminate in one of those moments which results in a big payoff for a small amount of effort? Did this small act of change provide an aha moment for my friend who felt empowered by making a conscious, deliberate decision about her behaviour? Um, no.

Apparently while trying to actually get to Starbucks, she ended up on the wrong side of the 401 highway. Did she decide to abandon her new choice in favour of habit and comfort, and drive straight to Tim Horton’s? No she did not! She carried on, determined to change up her morning. Defiantly, she drove through the Starbucks drive-through, ordered her soy-latte-frappucino-no-whip-low-fat-mocha-whatever (I don’t drink coffee, can you tell?), and proudly handed the cashier her debit card. Of course the cashier had no idea that my friend had broken out of her morning routine, that this single act was one of empowerment and personal delight. The cashier didn’t know that. The cashier did know that my friend’s debit card was declined. And so my friend put her $4 coffee on her credit card.

She reached the office, powered up her computer, was getting herself organized, when the phone rang. It happened to be the bank, telling her that her account was overdrawn. (Insert sardonic stare here.) Undaunted, and determined to enjoy her mocha-mess the way it was intended to be, she put the cursed drink in the microwave, put it on for 30 seconds, and the contents promptly exploded. spewing foam on all six internal surfaces of the microwave.

Moments later, my friend, having related her adventures to me to the point where I had tears running down my face, was happily sitting in her chair, sipping the bottom two inches of what was left of her Starbucks coffee. She had changed it up and she was proud.

It never hurts to shake things up a bit, in fact, it’s good for us. Is it always like it is in the movies when a “moment” is about to happen? Epic orchestral music, slow-mo visuals, a satisfying sense of accomplishment? Not always. Sometimes it’s burnt foam all over the inside of a small kitchen appliance that requires a great deal of elbow grease and steel wool to correct. The result is not the thing. The intent is. When you make a conscious decision to change it up, you prove you’re alive.