On the Thursday before Easter, after talking for almost a week about going into Malaga to see the penultimate Semana Santa procession, we decided not to.

It was a weird moment for Kirsten and me. We’re across the world from home, in Spain, during Easter, near a city known for beautiful, emotional processions through the streets during Holy Week.

By every ‘normal’ measure, we should have gone into town for this (possibly) once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

But no.

Instead, we told the kids we were going to go to a cocktail bar where we’ve become well-acquainted with the owner. This cocktail bar has a relaxed patio area that’s open to kids and a great selection of mocktails for them to try.

From 8:30pm to 11pm, instead of standing on the streets of Malaga witnessing a spectacular procession, we were at Ben’s Bar (it's actual name).

We drank cocktails and mocktails, played Yahtzee, and talked to Ben, the Dutch owner and veteran mixologist.

We all loved it. And the kids were fascinated.

They heard Ben talk about the difficulties of running his new cocktail establishment, which is only 7 months old. They heard the history of the swizzle cocktail and in particular, the swizzle stick. They watched Ben craft drinks at his bar and asked questions about why he freezes the glassware.

It was a great night. An adventure of a different sort.

And this brings me to the point of this email: adventure.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the topic. In part, because we’re on an adventure. But also because I regret not being more adventurous at many points in my life.

Adventure, as a word, is pretty loaded.

For me, without thinking about it too much, the word evokes thoughts of Lewis and Clark, of hikes in the Cascade mountain rnage, of canoe trips and travel and impressive feats in the outdoors or ‘out there’ in the world.

And yet, when I think about adventure more deeply, I realize that I often think about it far too narrowly.

This past Thursday, when we stayed home instead of venturing into Malaga at night to watch incredible processions that people travel thousands of miles to see…we were being adventurous.

That might sound silly to you. It did to me at first. But the more I considered why we made the decision, the more it felt adventurous.

How?

Well here’s the a definition of adventure from Google:

‘An unusual and exciting or daring experience’.

Here's my alternate definition:

‘The process of moving past the little voices in your head that whisper you ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t’ do something for reasons that don’t ultimately matter.’

I know. It’s a mouthful. But think about this breakdown of the original definition:

• Unusual: according to who? Assumedly, it would be unusual based on what ‘the average person would do’.
• Exciting: also, according to who? Probably exciting based on the general idea of what is exciting vs boring? Very subjective.
• Daring: there’s a big spectrum of ‘daring’, which it’s also subjective…who says something is daring or not?

When I broke down my definition, I noticed some overlap:

• moving past the little voices in your head: where do these voices come from? Most likely from ‘the norm’ or whatever groupthink situation we’re part of (and we all are).
• that whisper you ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t’ do something: who’s to say you should or shouldn’t? These are pressures from the outside, and also from your gut or conscience, but they should be evaluated carefully and not listened to instinctively.
• for reasons that don’t ultimately matter: some things matter very much, obviously, but much of the time the pressures we feel or voices we listen to do not ultimately matter.

Now, let me unpack this in the context of our decision to stay home and head to a cocktail bar instead of into Malaga.

The reasons we SHOULD have gone into Malaga that evening that didn’t ultimately matter were:

• other people travel from all over to do this
• it’s unique and the photos would be cool
• we’re only 25 minutes away
• this only happens once a year
• we might never be here to do this again
• it’s Holy Week and it would be fitting

All of these are really compelling reasons. And yet, because we’d seen some processions earlier in the week, weren’t looking forward to driving through traffic, and could sense the kids were only saying yes because their parents had hyped it up for 6 days…we changed plans last minute.

We did not regret our decision.

I believe our kids had an even more unique and special time at the cocktail bar that evening than they would have had in Malaga.

So that decision…the change of plans in spite of the pressure Kirsten and I were putting on ourselves, was, in a sense, unusual, exciting and daring (ie. adventurous) when contrasted with what most people would do in that situation (including ourselves...based on what we'd been planning all week).

Does that make us special? Not at all.

Think about it: does choosing to canoe across Montana on the Missouri River make you special? No. But is it adventurous? I sure think so. But primarily because it's not my norm.

In that sense, adventure is very relative, right?

For a Montana-based outfitter who rents canoes to people for a living and has done that traverse a dozen times, it might be more adventurous to go sushi-tasting in Manhattan over a weekend.

This is what’s so special and unique about adventure. It’s intensely personal.

Sometimes, the most adventurous thing you can do isn’t actually 'out there' in the wild, or on a trip, on in a new country…

Adventure can be a small, seemingly boring decision that means you do what you don’t normally do. A situation that gets you out of your comfort zone. A time where you do (or don’t) listen to those little voices whispering to you.

In reflecting on this idea, I'm aiming to do this going forward:

Going forward, I plan to watch for simple moments that, for me, are ‘counter-cultural’ or ‘counter-pressural’ (yes, just made that word up), and that open my eyes to a reality:

I can be adventurous every single day.