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JOFO – Joy Of Finding Oneself

Bigger dreams have a strange way of motivating us to pursue routine targets.

As part of my preparation for a much bigger journey, I had recently restarted a simple habit after a long break—a daily brisk walk.

The monsoons had arrived. I have always loved this season. The smell of the wet earth, the cool breeze, the gentle drizzle, and the soothing sound of nature make even an ordinary walk feel special.

The rains, however, required a small change in my routine. Instead of walking outdoors, I chose the terrace of my apartment building. It was clean, spacious, and perfect for a brisk walk.

Without consciously deciding it, I had developed a pattern. Every day, I walked along the edge of the terrace, hugging the wall and completing round after round in exactly the same way.

The pattern had become comfortable.

Then came the clothesline.

One evening, as I approached the north-east corner of the terrace, I noticed that the usually empty clothesline was occupied. A large blanket hung from it, extending unusually close to the wall.

There was no way I could continue my usual route without pushing the blanket aside.

I was annoyed.

My first reaction was immediate and predictable.

“Who hangs a blanket here and disturbs my walk?”

I silently blamed the apartment owner. My eyebrows narrowed. My peaceful walk had suddenly become an inconvenience.

I completed one round and returned to the same corner.

The irritation had reduced slightly.

Then a question arose.

Why am I getting annoyed?

One of the beautiful gifts of JOFO is that it encourages self-awareness. It invites me to pause and observe not just the world around me, but also the reactions within me.

As I stood there, something became obvious.

The problem was not the blanket.

The problem was my attachment to a pattern.

I had convinced myself that there was only one way to walk around the terrace. The blanket had not blocked the terrace. It had merely interrupted a route that existed in my mind.

Suddenly, the solution became clear.

I did not need to move the blanket.

I needed to move my thinking.

I changed my route slightly. Instead of hugging the wall at that corner, I took a small deviation around the obstacle.

Interestingly, the new route was actually longer.

My walk improved.

I laughed at myself.

A few moments earlier, I had been irritated by a blanket. Now I was grateful for it.

The terrace had not changed.

The blanket had not moved.

Only my attitude had.

And with that change, the world became peaceful again.

My attention returned to the things that had brought me there in the first place—the cool wind brushing against my face, the occasional spray of rain carried by the breeze, the rustling of leaves, and the quiet conversation of nature.

The human noise inside my head faded away.

Nature was speaking to me again.

That evening, the annoying clothesline taught me a simple lesson.

Often in life, we become attached to patterns. We get comfortable doing things a certain way and begin to believe that our way is the only way.

When life introduces a change, a challenge, or an unexpected obstacle, our first instinct is to resist it.

We try to move the blanket.

But sometimes the blanket is not the problem.

Sometimes life is simply inviting us to discover a better route.

Every change does not become better automatically.

It becomes better when our attitude changes.

And sometimes, all it takes is an annoying clothesline to remind us of that.