“Where all think alike, no one thinks very much.” – Walter Lippman

It’s so easy to become complacent. We are creatures of habit and love the safe comfort of sticking within our own social system, culture, friends and people with similar opinions.

Travel is one way to shift us from that cosy world view. Transplanted to walk, however briefly, among The Other, our views are challenged. Travel forces us to compare, to pause, to reflect on what and why we believe what we do.

Gated communities are the antithesis of this approach to life. There, we hide behind our by-law enforced facades of matching window boxes, properly-coloured doors and believe we can keep the world at bay. Mostly it works.

But to what end?

Travel is not the only way to blast through this comforting fog of conformity;  reading books beyond our normal genre, talking to different people, daring to interact with strangers, making eye contact with the homeless….All these moments help shift our ground.

Which brings me to volunteering.

Yesterday I rode my bicycle to Lord Strathcona Elementary School to volunteer for my Thursday morning slot. It was Hallowe’en. We were encouraged to dress up.

Here’s the thing. I can’t recall the last time I got in costume.

However. Being a frugal Mennonite, and also being part of the Couple Who Lives in a Brave New Tiny World, I didn’t want to spend a bunch of money, or worse, end up with a huge pile of costume stuff.

I bought tiger ears for $2.69. Tossed on a variety of cat-like animal prints from my closet, painted whiskers on with an eyebrow pencil and voila. I was a true Canadian Cat; a mixed bag of everything.

As I cycled along the Adanac Bikeway, spots and stripes flapping behind me, people grinned and laughed. We shared moments of silly joy. I understood clowning for the first time.

The kids loved it. One little girl insisting on petting my ears.

Although my round-trip was only 4.2 kilometres, I was shifted, completely and totally, out of my usual zone. I returned home with a Cheshire-sized grin. This would not have happened if I hadn’t volunteered and moved out of my usual social circle.

Eleanor Roosevelt told us that we should do something that scares us every day. It doesn’t have to be as heart-stoppingly-stupid as jumping into a South African abyss or zip lining in Wales (though I highly recommend both!).

It can be anything that gets us out of our usual world.

Go on. Jump in. I double-dog dare you.