I have spent the past few months in the Caribbean, and realistically I’ve just spent them living to work rather than working to live. I didn’t really have a plan when I first arrived, so it’s not very surprising that I lapsed into my years old habit of doing menial work for nominal pay, pursuing things that are distracting instead of pleasing, and holding people at arm’s length for one reason or another. Its an old routine that can be practiced anywhere, even in a tropical paradise.

I’ve worked in the same restaurant a block from my apartment, which I’ve stayed in since I arrived in August. I’ve eaten most of the same foods, drank far too many of the same drinks, walked the same roads, talked to the same people and gone to the same places. I play the same video games which themselves consist of repeating the same task over and over, I listen to the same music, and I even think many of the same thoughts each day. If I didn’t have a calendar or notice that my clothes don’t fit as well, it might as well be Tuesday, September 26, 2016: the day I started working and had officially settled into my apartment.

While there is something to be said for having a routine, I would argue that a routine should have a purpose. One that is made haphazardly can actually be damaging to the one practicing it; it can even overcome them, and the relationship changes from the routine existing because of the person to the person existing because of the routine. I don’t mean this in terms of mental illnesses like OCD; more like a mental absence, as a person who exists because of a routine does not need to think very hard to get through the day. “Going through the motions,” essentially.

I have lived my life this way for many years, although it did not seem to be so partially because I was constantly changing my scenery. New apartment, new city, new job, new acquaintances, new girlfriend, and a swathe of other things constantly cycling in and out. I would surround myself with new things and experiences like shiny baubles, and the newness would distract me from the fact that these were really no different to things I had already encountered.

I had forgotten a fundamental lesson I learned from theater; so long as you follow the script a play can be preformed with any kind of prop or scenery, even none at all.  I was diligently following an unimaginative and predictable script. While I wish I could say that I railed against this hell every day, in truth I was more abjectly resigned to it. “This is the way it is, so it must stay this way even if I don’t like it” became my daily mantra, even if I never consciously recited it.

Being in the Caribbean, however, forced me to recognize what was happening because there was nothing new to distract me. I spent months without a reliable internet connection, for example, so the limitless distractions of web surfing and online gaming were gone. I found some reprieve in my phone, but an inconsistent connection meant that my distractions would unexpectedly fall away, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I had two books, but they were dedicated to self reflection, so of course I could not. Passing the same people every day provided some relief as I could hear about what was going on in their lives rather than my own, but hearing their stories of failure and triumph inevitably caused a reflection on my own (lack of) accomplishments. Working in the same place for so long forced me to see what impact my choices had on my handful of coworkers; both when I did too much and when I did too little. Keeping my regular drinking habits next to the same people showed how much more (and how much less) I drank compared to people I knew.

In the middle of the Caribbean, surrounded by excess, white sand beaches, tourists and addicts, I was forced at last to confront myself. To not just look at the mirror and see the face it reflected, but to look into the mirror and see myself. There were no complicating factors of life I could blame, no decisions made by “others” I could rail against; there were only my own choices and their consequences, viewed at last with clarity.

I was left with a few choices; continue business as usual, taking this transformative moment and letting it pass by, or use it to turn my life in a direction I actually wanted to pursue and fill it with things I actually enjoyed. While I wish I could say that I’ve performed a dramatic 180 and turned into the successful, beautiful enlightened soul I wish to be, everyone knows that things are usually neither that sudden or that complete.

Today, four days after I began writing this, I have taken small steps in that direction. Seeing that I am fat, I did a little cardio today. Knowing that I am bored, I have written and revised this entry until I am happy with it. I will build my future in the same way I have built my present.

One small, but firm, step at a time.