Uncommon Ordinary

I like to think I am open to adventure, and that there is a spirit inside of me that revels in the glory of said adventure. To most, adventure is something we seek out, like a trip to the Boundary Waters and its uncharted waters or a climb to the top of Pike's Peak. But if the world really is so big, wide, and open, then adventures await us anywhere, no? So maybe we are meant not to seek it out, but rather to let it find us. I become concerned when we begin to think that we must go somewhere or do something in order to obtain that adventure. I’m wondering if there may be another type of adventure in living in one place and continually renewing it your mind: shopping at the same Byerly’s or Publix, driving the same commute each day, but allowing it to be an adventure- or a chance to see the world in a different way. While this all borders on cheesy, I think this is valid: we live the lives we choose. So, I choose adventure, whether that be in Morocco or in my commute. I choose to make the small adventures count; the everyday adventures speak.


I found this to me true just the other day, as I, one about to embark on a journey to another continent, another language, and another culture walked into a yoga class at the local gym. I am fairly new to yoga, having practiced it a handful of times before I suddenly made it my new fad last month. And while I cannot put my body into the Lotus, I am working on a handstand, and finding that hour of my day to be one of counter cultural peace and solitude. Just as the new awareness yoga has brought to me of my body (now I really sound weird!), I have been able to embrace some of the centering spiritual aspects of the practice. But I wasn’t prepared for our instructor’s prompting at the end of class one day to sit in a circle so we might chant.

Ok, so this is when the little Sarah inside is saying, “Time to suddenly have to leave early!” In that moment, I would have run three marathons back to back to avoid the agony of what our instructor had just suggested. Again, I am new to yoga. And I don’t know any of these people. The last thing I want to do is sit in a circle with my knees touching those sitting next to me chanting anything. Where have their knees been today? As it turns out, very few were comfortable with sitting in a circle and chanting. One woman remarked as we closed our eyes, “We’re Minnesotans. How can you expect us to do this!?!” But we did it. And in that odd, yet faintly sacred moment of sitting knee to knee with no I knew, it was as if community suddenly entered. For a small minute, there was meaningful human connection.

Maybe it is because I am a Minnesotan that sitting in a circle with random people chanting was an adventure for me- and for many in that circle. Yet, in our insular lives of gym, car, work, email, cell phone, car, home, it is easy to escape the adventure and discomfort of actually engaging in our present community. I can almost operate on a day-to-day basis with little to no significant human interaction if I so choose, and I might I venture to guess you might be able to as well? This circle thing freaked me out as I was suddenly confronted with that disheartening reality. That growing and stretching (quite literally!) moment in that class imprinted itself on my mind. The understanding that no adventure is too small and no circumstance too mundane was significant to me; it was a gentle reminder that while I am off to new lands and sights, there is adventure in community, its interactions and its everydayness.

One of my dear friends who is in to yoga once exclaimed to me, “Sarah, you would experience a higher quality of life if you practiced yoga.” I chuckled at her statement, writing it off as the part of the overwhelming granola-feel to the town I was living in. (There, EVERYONE did yoga.) However, her little statement has stuck with me, and I have come to realize that she might have something right. Pushing the boundaries of your comfortable self doesn’t require a trip up Everest or even a spontaneous road trip, but maybe the more difficult task of pausing a second longer to engage in that conversation, putting the cell phone down, taking the ear buds out, or- well, I don’t know, signing up for a yoga class.