When Did Extraordinary Become Ordinary?

Inside Nat's Notebook - Real Reflections for Real Change

There are things in your life today that you once really wanted.

Not necessarily the enormous things. I'm talking about the things that have become so completely normal that you barely notice them anymore.

Maybe it's your house.

There was a time when having a place of your own felt like a very big deal. You imagined getting the keys, walking through the front door, deciding where everything would go. You might have spent months or years searching, saving, planning, hoping that this one would finally work out.

Then one day it did.

And now? Now you're standing in the kitchen thinking it would be so much better if you knocked that wall through.

There's nothing wrong with wanting to knock the wall through. Or wanting another house altogether. This isn't a lecture about being grateful for what you've got and never wanting anything more. Goodness no, that is not for me to tell you. I'm interested in something much more ordinary than that, actually.

When did you stop noticing what you already had?

Because you probably didn't decide to. There wasn't a Tuesday morning back in March when you looked around and announced, "Right, that's enough excitement about this house. From today onwards I shall take it completely for granted."

It just happened, right?

Somewhere Along The Way, It Became Normal

Think about getting a new car. That new car smell. The immaculate interior. The first tiny mark that you inspect as though you're about to launch a forensic investigation.

For a while, you really notice the car. Then a few months pass, and it begins: there's a reusable shopping bag in the boot constantly, three receipts stuffed somewhere they shouldn't be and a water bottle rolling around that you can hear every time you turn left.

The car didn't suddenly become less impressive on a particular day. You simply got used to it.

We do this all the time because the human mind is very good at becoming familiar with things. It has to be. If everything around you continued demanding the same amount of attention forever, you'd be exhausted before breakfast.

So instead, you stop noticing the hum of the fridge. You don't consciously feel your clothes against your skin all day. You can travel a familiar route without having to study every road sign and junction as though you're sitting your driving test again.

Your mind learns what it knows and allows some of it to slip quietly into the background. Now that IS very clever, right? Except sometimes your life slips into the background with it.

Have You Ever Arrived Home Without Really Remembering The Drive?

You know the one. You leave work, get into the car and somewhere along the way your mind wanders off. You're replaying the conversation you had that afternoon. Thinking about what you need from the supermarket. Remembering the washing is still sitting in the machine. Wondering why she said that in the meeting and whether she meant what you think she meant.

Then you pull onto your drive. You're home. Obviously you drove there. You stopped at junctions, changed gear, followed the road and presumably didn't cause widespread chaos through the neighbourhood. But you weren't really noticing much of it. The route has become so familiar that you can travel through it while your attention is elsewhere.

How often do you do the same thing with your life?

It might look like this: wake up. Shower. Make the tea. Feed the cat. Find the keys. Go to work. Answer the messages. Drive home. Make dinner. Watch something. Go to bed. Tomorrow, do something remarkably similar.

It can all become so familiar that eventually we start saying things like, 

"I just feel as though I'm going through the motions."

Now that is an interesting phrase, isn't it? Because maybe sometimes we are.

I think dogs know something we don't.

Watch a dog when somebody reaches for its lead. This could be walk number 2,436 in its lifetime. Same lead. Same front door. Same human. Same route. Same tree waiting just around the corner.

Doesn't matter.

THE LEAD IS OUT.

There is dancing. There is tail wagging. There may be some slightly unhinged running between you and the front door just in case you've somehow forgotten what happens next.

And I love that. Not because I think we should all start jumping around the hallway every time somebody suggests going to Tesco. (Other stores and destinations are available, haha.)

Although I'd quite like to see all that leaping about if you are up for it.

See, I love it because the dog doesn't seem to have decided that repetition makes something worthless.

We humans are rather good at that. We experience something enough times, and it becomes ordinary. Then ordinary can start to feel boring. And before long, we're looking towards something else to give us that feeling again. It might be a bigger house. A better job. Another holiday. A different car. The next achievement. 

Something new to look forward to.

Again, there's absolutely nothing wrong with wanting any of those things. The danger isn't in wanting more. It's forgetting that some of the things you're barely noticing today were once the more you were hoping for.

Maybe you once longed for the freedom you now have. Maybe you once dreamed of doing the work that has somehow become another dreaded Monday morning. Maybe you live somewhere you once couldn't believe you were lucky enough to call home, yet you've stopped looking at the view.

That's what familiarity can do. It doesn't remove what's extraordinary. It changes how much attention we give it.

And once I started thinking about that, I found myself wondering about something much bigger.

Have we become so accustomed to being alive that we've stopped noticing what being alive actually is?

Because an awful lot is happening in an ordinary day that we've decided isn't particularly remarkable simply because it happens all the time.

You wake up. Someone you love knows the sound of your voice. You recognise your favourite song within seconds on the radio. You turn on a tap and water appears. You taste your tea. You feel sunshine through a window. You laugh at something ridiculous so hard your belly hurts. You get into your own bed at the end of the day, and your body knows exactly what to do next.

Ordinary things.

Except when you really look at them, some of them aren't very ordinary at all.

Maybe life doesn't always need to become more extraordinary.

Maybe sometimes we simply need to notice when extraordinary became ordinary to us.

#Rebel Moment

Today, catch yourself doing one familiar thing on autopilot.

Making your tea. Opening your front door. Driving home. Getting into bed. Hearing someone you love laugh.

Just one thing.

And for a few seconds, give it your full attention.

Just notice what you've stopped noticing.

You might be surprised by what's been there all along.

Stay Blessed!

LoveLove

Nat x

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