After a few hours of working and reading in my dorm room, I decided it was time for another one of my nightly walks. I traversed over to my favorite fountain and sprawled out over the bench. In front of me was a bus—the last one of the night. It looked lonely, as if it longed for someone to board it.

In this instance, I contemplated what would have happened had I disregarded my duties and obligations and went for a ride. After going to Mockingbird Station and taking the DART deep into Dallas, what would I have seen? What music would I have listened to? Would I have experienced something inexplicably inspirational?

I’ll never know. Instead, I watched it drive away into a streetlight-laden abyss. The possibility lingers, though. Why am I here and not there?

I question frequently whether the metaphorical path I am on is appropriate for me. Since society essentially force-feeds a lifestyle filled with structure and order into our lives, it often suffocates spontaneity.

Now, by spontaneity, I don’t mean drunken escapades of which one is unable to remember the following morning. In essence, these are societal predeterminations as well.

Alcohol provides a temporary psychological numbness, but such numbness is often formulaic. The process essentially is: go to a party, get drunk, pass out, wake up and reincorporate oneself into the weekly routine.

But when was the last time you said “to hell with it all” and travelled to a place which you had no prior knowledge of?

For me, it was to Taos, N.M. In a rash decision, I hurriedly completed the application and soon enough found myself on a plane to Santa Fe, N.M. Once I gazed outside of my airplane window and saw barren, sandy plains and Sonoran vegetation. I thought, “What have I done?”

But such a brash decision became one of the most cathartic experiences I could have ever hoped for. Within a couple of days, I transitioned from generic suburban experiences to high-adrenaline rides down the Rio Grande Gorge, petrifying rappels down steep cliffs and hikes consisting of awe-inspiring vistas.

However, had I stayed inside my comfort zone, this never would have happened. I would never experience living in an adobe casita, push myself to my physical and mental limits or be taunted by a hip-gyrating Rastafarian. Such spontaneity forged memories that will last a lifetime.

Structure and order are undoubtedly preferable over chaos.

But in modern American society, too often does hierarchy supersede its role as a guiding force. Instead, it becomes tyrannical. For us, it is important to recognize when familial, professional or social pressures become too overbearing. It is our duty to commandeer our futures.

So, try that thing you’ve always wanted to. Who cares what people have to say about it? You are your own arbiter; let society render its judgments only upon itself. Who knows, it might change your life.

Andrew Pinkowitz is a sophomore majoring in financial consulting and Spanish with a minor in communications studies. He can be reached for comment at [email protected]