Are You Comfortable?

Nigel, our 2-year-old Corgi

I’ve come to the realization that there are two types of people. First, there are those who are too comfortable in life. They’ve been living the same day for years, whether they like it or not. They make grand plans for the future and never see those plans to fruition. Tale as old as time. We’ve seen versions of this story in countless movies and books. These stories usually end with the main character uprooting their life, making major changes, and finally being “happy.” The end.

And then there’s the second type of person. Those who never allow themselves to be comfortable. They are the dreamers, the jetsetters, and the entrepreneurs. We respect and glorify this type of person. A life full of adventure and spontaneity is the key to happiness, right? Our lives must be instagrammable after all - colorful, curated, and complicated. Slowing down is pretty much the same thing as giving up.

I fall into this second category. I’m sure many artists do. Ryan and I joke that he’s the only thing I never get sick of. I hate routines. I love a change of scenery. If something isn’t working in my life, I let it go and don’t look back. My lack of nostalgia can be shocking at times. I live for the future. But is this actually a good thing?

I’ve been asking myself this question a lot lately. Why does it feel like I can never sit still? Even when my body is still, my mind is churning out plans. Well, I have theories. As a child, I moved around a lot. I went to a new school every few years. Some of my better qualities come from this upbringing. I’m adventurous. I take risks. I can be friends with anyone. However, I never learned how to settle down. Even as an adult, I didn’t plant roots right away. I continued moving until we bought our house six years ago. At 35 years old, this is the longest I’ve lived anywhere in my entire life. And it terrifies me.

Another theory is that, as creatives, we’re naturally inclined to be this way. We love seeking beauty in the world, and it’s easier to find inspiration when we’re on the move. We’re also dreamers, so we love making plans for the future.

These past six years in our home, I’ve planted partial roots. I’ve stayed put, but I’ve also gone through some major life changes. And I’ve been itching to make more changes, even though my intuition is telling me not to. I’ve physically planted myself in this place, but my ego is still scheming. Recently, we (aka me) dreamt of moving locally. Well, every time we looked at houses, I felt like I was breaking out in hives. Clearly, I didn’t want to move. I just felt like I should because change is engrained in me. And Ryan doesn’t want to move either. He’s the type who doesn’t like change, so we balance each other out. It’s funny, when I asked him if he lives more in the past or future, he said the past. It must mean that living in the past allows you to get comfortable. And living in the future doesn’t. It’s like physics - the past drags you backwards so you’re inclined to live a slower life, and the future pulls you forwards into a fast paced life. Both behaviors are destructive, because you aren’t living in the present, in sync with time.

I guess I’m afraid that if I slow down, time will pass too quickly and I won’t get to do the things I want in life. It’s easier to track time when it’s broken up by various adventures - whether it be new cities, or big milestones. The problem is that if I don’t slow down, I won’t get to do all the things I want either. There won’t be any time. And I will never truly be present in my life if I’m always planning the next adventure.

Our pups - Nigel and Rupert

And I’ve seen the good that comes from staying put. My art has reached new heights. I’ve been able to connect with my work in a way I never thought possible. Even though we’ve been through some really tough things recently, I feel more at peace than I ever have. I know practicing presence is good for me. All this planning, traveling, and dreaming has left me tired. Tired to my core. My intuition is telling me to get cozy in my studio right now, make a lot of art, and let the years fly by. It’s telling me to live in the moment with Ryan and our pups. To do that, I need to change. I need to find some middle ground between being too comfortable and not comfortable enough. For me, I may need to get more comfortable than most to make up for years of change. I’m a recovering change addict, and I’m aware of that now. Whether I’m just getting older, or recent life events have led me to this breakthrough, I’m grateful for it.

As humans, we all need to find our middle ground. Despite what society tells us, it’s okay to settle down and be “boring.” There’s such beauty in planting roots. It’s okay to live in the same small town for years, as long as you don’t lose your sense of wonder or adventure. I think comfortable people seem happier at their core than jetsetters. In every “boring” instagram feed are lives well-lived. Little moments behind the screen that we don’t see. And that’s the good stuff. As a society, we’ve forgotten that.

My new art studio, a work in progress

As artists, planting roots can be more difficult, but it’s so necessary. If we allow ourselves to be silent and still, our creativity can really flourish. When we busy ourselves with moving, traveling, and new endeavors, there’s no time to get really good at art. Yes, there are seasons for those things. However, there’s a difference between seasons and addictions. I know that now. That’s part of the reason I’m setting up a new studio space. Ironically, it’s yet another exciting project, but this one feels different. I’ve never allowed myself to get comfortable in our home. I’ve always thought of it as temporary. By setting up shop, I’m committing to staying put for a while. I’m setting up a space I can comfortably work in for years to come. I really want to hunker down and commit to my craft. I know my art will be better for it, and so will my soul.

Which type of person are you and what are you struggling with right now? Let me know in the comments below.