When did I become so comfortable?

Did you ever get that feeling that you've walked into the wrong place? For instance, you walk into the bathroom and you notice that there are only stalls, an exceptionally large mirror and frilly things around the sink? Or walk into a bar dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and notice that there aren't any females and everyone is wearing leather? (This really happened to me! I turned tail and was back in my car in less than thirty seconds.) Or went to a concert and noticed that you were the only one who didn't have holes in your pants or colored hair?

It just means that you've entered a world that you've never been in before. It's a time where you get to stand up and become the hero or be a zero as it were. Do you boldy go where no (hu)man has gone before? Do you nochanlantly walk into the stall, make use of it and wave to the woman that walks in as you exit? Do you turn red faced and walk out as if you were being chased by angry demons? Do you wink at the leather clad man who is eying you in ways you've never thought you'd be eyed? Do you retreat in confusion and embarrasment upon the realization of where you were? Do you wonder if those people in that mosh pit will come your way swinging?

A life never risked is a life never lived at all, to paraphrase the adage. I sometimes wonder if the more I learn, the less willing I am to walk fearlessly along with my curiousity towards something that I have never experienced before. When did I become someone who decided that being comfortable was enough and that I didn't need to look at what was behind the next hill. At what time did I decide that boldly going where I had never been before was something that wasn't as facsinating as it used to be? Can I pinpoint a time where I submerged my curiosity with the desire to be content with resting on my laurels? When did I enter that viscous cycle that has mired me into a stay at home person? When did I become like my parents?

I think it may be when I started to feel the pressure of responsibility and duty for others encroach upon my freedom to do what I willed. I wasn't ever wealthy, but I always did what I wanted and didn't need money to be happy. It was the thrill of discovering something new or understanding how something that I had never touched before worked. It was the wish to see what was around that corner that I had never been to. When did I lose that innocent curiousity? When did I lose the joy in something new? While I can't pinpoint some exact date that put me into this slide towards enervation, I can see that I may be nearing bottom. It's something to ponder as I lament my lost innocence.