We humans are creatures of habit, are we not? We like to drive familiar routes to and from our favorite (or convenient) businesses, we like to listen to favorite radio stations, or buy certain brands of shoes because the brands fit our feet. Perhaps you are one of those loyal consumers that has driven a certain brand of car your entire life. In my parents era, it was not unusual for a family or, back then the man, to be referred to as, "Oh, he's a Ford man." or "Oh, he's a Chrysler man." Literally, every car these men ever purchased was from the same line of automobiles.
Most of us like to fall back on the familiar, the routine and the comfortable. We like our habits.
I wrote about habit formation a few weeks ago and since then my habit awareness has been heightened. I have tried to be conscious of habits and what I discovered is that my days and nights are just one long string of habits. It has been challenging to break routines and to even think about establishing new ones. Take, for example, where you sit.
A few years ago, Capt. SO and I discovered the hierarchy of seating on a bus filled with seniors - and I do not mean seniors of the high school or college variety. Since it was our first (and only so far) group bus trip, we were unaware of the unspoken rule that the seats you sit in the first time are the seats you sit in EVERY TIME. Fortunately, for us, when we loaded for the return trip, we did return to the same seats, but another couple did not and were royally (and loudly) chastised for "taking our seats". The offended were so offensive that the offenders actually gave the seats up. It was not a pretty picture of senior living.
Church seating is another example of what I call "The Endowed Seating Syndrome". If you are a visitor to many churches and you are not aware that the Smith Family Pew is just that, pity the poor folk that dare to sit where the Smiths ALWAYS sit. A few weeks ago, I did the unthinkable, without knowing it, and sat down where someone else ALWAYS sits. I was made to feel uncomfortable enough (plus the fact that friends saving the seats gave enough dirty looks to last me a lifetime) that I got up and moved. I was so offended that I made up some lyrics to the familiar song, "This Land Is My Land."
This seat is my seat,
It is not your seat,
I'll always sit here,
Now and forever.
Go find your own seat,
I do not care where.
This seat was made for only me.
The next time you think about taking a seat at a table for a recurring meeting, or sit in a church pew, or park in a parking spot, first check out the pavement or look under the seats. If you see initials carved or a gold name plate afixed, you just might want to think about sitting or parking somewhere else. That spot is taken.
Ancora imparo
