There’s a field near our house where we like to walk our dogs. Over the winter, we wind up with a fairly narrow path. It’s the one carved out by enough people walking on it that you don’t sink up to your waste in snow. Then, as it starts to melt, the path is packed down enough that it’s the only place that doesn’t turn into puddles.
Over the weekend, we were walking there and I started heading in the usual direction. My partner asked me what I was doing. I looked around and realized that with the snow and water gone, the only thing making me walk that circuitous route was habit.
It’s easy to get sucked into familiar paths.
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