Surprise Yourself!

It’s easy to lose sight of spontaneity in the busy, over-scheduled, over-committed world we live in. At least in my world.

I read somewhere that spontaneity is the ability to do something just because you feel like it at a given moment; to trust your instincts enough to take yourself by surprise. It’s the ability to snatch unscheduled pleasure from the clutches of a well-organized routine.

That sounds nice, doesn’t it? I’d welcome a few surprises and some fun.

Ah, but pleasure snatching means doing things differently, which entails change. It requires a willingness to have an open mind. The voice in my head says, whoa, slow down. Remember you have to learn to walk before you can run; it nudges me to stay on track, keep to my schedule.

So I’ll rephrase. Being spontaneous "now and then" would be OK.

For some, spontaneity is exciting; for others, it’s a terrifying prospect they avoid at all cost. They hate surprises or change. If you’re like me, the absence of routine triggers stress—the idea of going through a day, even a few hours, unscheduled can be unsettling.

I’d like to think it could mean the freedom to be more creative and imaginative, to rediscover and enjoy that inner child that never seems to age (and who’s getting harder to keep up with, I might add). I want to break away from my well-planned (if only that were true) life and do things on a whim. I’m ready for less structure. I’m ready for a fun spirit.

I also realize being joined at the hip to my Palm Pilot doesn’t make spontaneity any easier, but functioning without it seems utterly impossible. My life is in my phone—contacts, memos, addresses and appointments. I dictate story ideas on my phone. With a spotty, unreliable memory, it keeps me on track.

A few months ago, I thought I lost my phone. Suddenly I was unconnected. I had accidentally left it in a store on Castro Street. I hadn’t backed it up for weeks, and the thought of losing all that information gave me heartburn.

I want to be spontaneous. I’m learning to do impulsive, impromptu things. It isn’t comfortable yet, but it’s getting easier.

The other day I made a pot of curried butternut squash and apple soup. Later that afternoon I went shopping and on an impulse, took the soup with me. While I was out, I took a chance, called a friend and asked if I could drop by and bring dinner with me. It was a delightful, spur-of-the-moment evening, and it was fun.

There are things I can’t control, like the weather or noisy neighbors, things that need advance planning, like weddings and vacations, and things that demand schedules, like paying my bills on time. I’m not about to schedule spontaneity every Tuesday from 1 to 3 p.m., but I can try to be more flexible in my everyday activities.

The next time I walk downtown to to pay my utility bill, I’ll drop by the . After my next trip to the post office, maybe I’ll browse the bookstore or stop for coffee or buy a . I’ll think about taking my grandchildren for an unplanned ride on the next time they visit. They live in the moment—they haven’t yet learned containment. I envy them.

I think maybe, just maybe, if I allow more spontaneity into my life, it might help me stay young longer. I hope so, anyway. It’s true, I’m getting older and more set in my ways, but I’m not ready yet to be old.

With that in mind, I’ll make sure to do something spontaneous this week. Who knows, maybe I’ll make another pot of soup and call you.