Revisiting a 13-Year-Old Promise

Since moving back to live with my parents, I’ve found myself revisiting my old journals. Flip back thirteen years, to March 21, 2013, and I found a reflection that made me stop and think:

"I know everyone says they want to live their life to the fullest and I am included in that. It scares me that my life is so routine. Every day I do the same thing. I want to be proud of what I do on a day to day basis but it is hard when I feel like a robot. So now I focus on actually living."

Reading those words today, I have to smile at my college self. Back then, my days were anchored entirely by school, track, and friends. Looking back with the perspective of time, I have to gently ask myself: how truly robotic was my life then? I had an enviable amount of freedom and a schedule built around community and movement. I didn't yet know what the heavy, grinding routines of the “real world” could look like.

Yet, even without that future context, the fear I felt in that notebook was entirely real. I was terrified of running my life on autopilot.

Now, well over a decade later, I realize that the target hasn't actually shifted. I still want a fulfilling life that doesn’t feel automated. But what "actually living" means to me has transformed. Back then, I thought escaping autopilot meant breaking the routine entirely—chasing constant novelty or waiting for some grand, unpredictable future.

Today, I see it differently. I actually did go out and chase that novelty over the last ten years. I sought out new experiences and met new people. I traveled to over 16 different countries. I explored almost the entire United States, mapping out most of the country alongside my dog Nellie.

But what I know now is that the routine itself isn't the enemy; it’s the lack of presence within it. It was never about outrunning the structure of daily life, but about intentionally choosing what fills it.