"As he hurried along, eagerly anticipating the moment when he would be at home again among the things he knew and liked, the Mole saw clearly that he was an animal of tilled field and hedgerow, linked to the ploughed furrow, the frequented pasture, the lane of evening lingerings, the cultivated garden-plot. For others the asperities, the stubborn endurance, or the clash of actual conflict, that went with Nature in the rough; he must be wise, must keep to the pleasant places in which his lines were laid and which held adventure enough, in their way, to last for a lifetime."
-Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows
I'm rather like Mole: I need consistency and schedule, or nothing gets done and I feel empty and listless. Of course, adventure delights me as much as it did Mole, but also like him, I can't stay there forever. One can only travel for so long. One can only rearrange furniture, or dabble in new subjects, or cook new food for so long. Then it's time to settle (at least for a little while) and make the adventure your own, incorporating what you've learned or seen into that central core of your life, rather than popping off into a completely new sphere and abandoning the old.
I go adventuring in order to grow...to build...not to change utterly.
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