100 Days of Wonder — Day 12
The Novelty of the Road Less Travelled
Have you ever noticed that when you take a new route somewhere, the journey home always seems shorter? This phenomenon is known as the ‘return trip effect’ and it happens for a few reasons. The first is because, already on just the second journey, we are becoming familiar with our environment, weeding out some of the things we noticed the first time and recognising certain way points that make the journey feel shorter. The second reason is because when we are familiar, and thus more prone to autopilot, our sense of time shifts. As time is almost wholly perception, it’s like we are stealing seconds away from ourselves by not paying attention, shortening the journey in the process. Our perception of time and our tendency to go into autopilot are woven very tightly together.
It’s understandable why we want a route to feel familiar. Familiarity can be comforting, reassuring, and if it’s a journey we aren’t particularly thrilled to be making, we’re happy to make it shorter in our mind. But familiarity can also be stunting — robbing us of our ability to see and experience all the little elements of our life that we may miss or take for granted.
When we slow down and are able to notice, really notice, our environment, we increase our opportunity for wonder. While awe can strike at any time, novelty, the newness of something to our brain, is one of the most effective ways to see things through a lens of wonder. You can only see the Grand Canyon for the first time once. And while neurologically, a vista as stunning as that will still move us every time, we have to work a little harder to really see it. To not go into autopilot, populating the image with what we have in our memory, rather than our actual ‘in moment experience.’ (It’s one of the reasons eye-witness testimony is so faulty, as well. Our memory of an experience often follows a pattern in our mind and very easily supersedes the reality, even if that memory isn’t 100% accurate.)
This idea of time, familiarity and awe are all knit together. Being present, removing ourselves from autopilot, slows down time and allows us to see in more detail. This makes experiences feel new and in turn opens us up to wonder. It works in reverse too. When we have an awe experience, time slows down, we recall specific details very clearly, and then see the world through a new lens. It’s a fascinating virtuous cycle.
Taking a new path physically or metaphorically is particularly hard right now, given how few choices we have available to us. And I don’t know about you, but it feels like time is playing tricks on me — slow like treacle one minute, and then suddenly a week has vanished the next. We all just want ‘it’ to be over, but don’t, in your eagerness to speed time along to a better place, steal your precious seconds of being present.
My husband and I took a different route to the shop the other day. Just one street north, and it was like we were on holiday! The whole world around us felt different. (I know — it’s the little things these days.) Autopilot was off and I was fully aware. If you need some encouragement there are some great walking meditations you can find online or whatever meditation app you’ve got downloaded on your phone. It’s such an easy way to really notice what’s around you.
Willing to feel a bit silly? Try changing up your actual walk, a la Ministry of Silly Walks from Monty Python. (The added bonus is that it can bring a bit of joy to those around you, too.)
They say familiarly breeds contempt. That adage is being tested at the moment. Give yourself and your brain the gift of novelty and see if it might allow a bit of wonder to make its way in too. #GoInWonder
(I write on Medium about what moves me. Feel free to pop on over to HATCH for more workplace related content.)
