Lately I’ve been running a little cost-benefit analysis. Is the sanctity of an undisturbed life that seeks to iron out potential wrinkles worth the loss of occasional cage rattling, spawning growth inside of chaos?

It’s a quandary I’ve circled for a long time, and I’ve yet to find any definitive evidence pointing me in one particular direction.

Woven into my central fabric is an organized, detailed, contemplative pragmatist who pays close attention to dates and deadlines. That’s undeniable. I take great pleasure aligning my ducks and creating systems to prepare for unexpected speed bumps. I’m rarely blindsided or put in awkward situations, and I relish recording the minutiae of my surroundings.

But, on the occasions when I’ve been rudely ejected from this stainless sanctuary of a comfort zone, I have found that the lessons learned and the connections made have been exponentially rewarding. The experience was never as daunting or painful as I anticipated and I generally emerged from the other side relatively unscathed.

It is an internal battle that has been raging for as long as I care to discuss. My brain doesn’t process life in the same way as the majority of people in this world, so watching the wheels of daily behavior spin in the opposite direction has added significant weight to these already-rounded shoulders.

Ruffled feathers, detonated plans, and unexpected visitors are nerve-inducing, neuroses missiles. When I lived with roommates, I was in a state of perpetual panic, waiting for someone to walk in the door without notice. Living with a significant other was even worse. But, the hours of conversation you never thought you’d have, growing in the spur of the moment, are the treasures born from those pins and needles. There was often a yang waiting for its yin. I just couldn’t pull myself back far enough to see the big picture.

So, I’m sitting at square one, battling instinct and hardwired tendency to allow the possibility and space for the unforeseen. It is a dance I’ve learned to stumble through for most of my adult life, and it doesn’t sound like the music is stopping any time soon.

A tranquil, still pond is a peaceful, beautiful thing. But, every body of water needs a few waves.