For better or worse, I've always been a creature of habit.
From eating Cheerios every day for breakfast to reading the paper every night after dinner, to arranging my pillows just so before I go to bed -- with all the chaos in the world, I've always found comfort in my familiar routines.
I was thinking about this last week when I went to my kid's college graduation.
Most graduations occur in the Spring. But our kid has been a disruptor from day one: he was born over three months early and decided to finish college over three months early as well.
December graduations are different. With most students taking the traditional path of finishing school in the Spring, there was a much smaller crowd. There were a few speeches, but they were abbreviated. And with most people busy decking the halls and stress-eating holiday cookies, the timing of the celebration felt a little out of place.
I remember when I graduated from college, I had the exact same feeling I did when I entered college -- I felt a little out of place.
There's a good reason for this.
Our brains love routines because they save energy. Once a behavior becomes automatic, your brain doesn't have to work as hard. This is why you can zone out while brushing your teeth or driving your usual commute. It's efficient -- but it's also stagnant.
Growth, on the other hand, happens when you shake things up, try something new, and force your brain to adapt.
It's no wonder that life's biggest transitions -- like graduations -- often feel so jarring. They pull us out of our comfy routines and thrust us into the unknown. Suddenly, there's no familiar commute to autopilot, no predictable class schedule, no obvious next step. It's as if the routine-loving part of your brain is looking around, hands on its hips, saying, "What the heck am I supposed to do now?"
And yet, these moments -- awkward, uncomfortable, and sometimes terrifying -- are also when the real magic happens. Psychologists call this "optimal anxiety," that sweet spot where you're just outside your comfort zone, not so overwhelmed that you shut down, but just uncomfortable enough to stretch. It's the reason astronauts train underwater, athletes push through brutal practices, and why your first day at a new job feels so exhausting (but ultimately rewarding). Growth, as it turns out, is usually a little... weird.
Sitting there at that December graduation, I realized that my kid was already way ahead of me in understanding this. For starters, he didn't seem the least bit bothered by the nontraditional timing of this milestone. No Spring pomp and circumstance? No problem. My kid -- and the other December graduates -- weren't waiting for the "perfect" moment to celebrate or the comfort of the familiar. They just leaned in, adapted, and got it done.