instinct

The Tug-of-War Between Comfort and Curiosity

Almost every morning, schedule and mother nature permitting, the husky and I take a few laps around the neighborhood. Some days, the shiba decides he’d like a lap too, but he is far more discerning about which days that is.

This morning routine is grounded in a quiet, serene time of day when fresh air and the sun’s rays work some kind of magic to activate my brain in really fascinating ways. It’s not uncommon for a repeat series of laps at night, allowing for meaningful reflection on the hours behind and the days ahead.

While this is my usual pattern, I started to notice something interesting about canine instincts.

My apparel for our neighborhood laps is the same as it is for going to the gym, with one small difference. If I am headed to the gym, I grab my earbuds in their case. If we are headed for a walk, I put my earbuds in before heading to the couch to put my shoes on.

The husky knows this nuance. If my earbuds are in, he knows we are headed out on a walk, and he sits, not so patiently, in front of me, waiting. Every day it's the same, and we walk the same path on repeat.

But the shiba doesn’t follow the same path or pattern. Some days we walk, some days we don’t, and when we do, the path is rarely the same.

One instinctively follows the same pattern day after day, while the other chooses his own path on any given day.

This observation led me to contemplate how we develop mental muscle memory. What causes some to build instinctual pathways grounded in consistency, while others opt for difference with intention?

If the husky is the keeper of ritual, his every movement a testament to comfort and predictability, the shiba reminds me that deviation isn’t always a flaw. Sometimes it's intentional. I used to think his unpredictability was pure stubbornness. But upon reflection, it’s actually a powerful example of curiosity at work.

There’s a timeless tension, in both human nature and leadership, between two instincts: the pull toward comfort and consistency, and the itch for disruption and curiosity. We’re wired, much like my dogs, for both.

The reliable morning lap is comforting precisely because it’s known, a gift to the nervous system. But it’s worth noticing that the most interesting things rarely happen on the most familiar paths. Sometimes, clarity only arrives in the detours.

As we walk, I see how routines can be grounding, especially when the world feels unpredictable. Comfort gives us the psychological oxygen to face our days, to be resilient when disruption, big or small, inevitably finds us. But if we only ever opt for the well-worn route, we risk trading our curiosity for certainty and our edge for ease.

Perhaps the shiba, and our own moments of chosen deviation, hold a lesson. Curiosity isn’t just child’s play or impulsiveness; it’s an instinct worth cultivating as adults. When we invite disruption, even in small daily choices, we open ourselves to rediscovering the world, and ourselves.

In my work, I’ve seen this echoed everywhere from conference rooms to family rooms. Some choose the security of precedent, others the unpredictable spark of the unknown.

True growth, both personal and organizational, arises at the edge where these instincts meet. The ancient Greek principle of arete champions this mindset. It requires not perfection in a single stride, but the willingness to face disruption with courage and intention, blending comfort with curiosity as circumstances demand.

The real question isn’t which instinct is better, but rather: when do we need each? The key is to notice when comfort becomes complacency, and when curiosity, instead of anxious avoidance, becomes a compass for meaningful change.

Back on the sidewalk, I tether these thoughts to my own patterns and loosen my grip, just a bit, on the leash of routine. Sometimes the best way to honor our instinct is to let it lead us somewhere new.

Maybe that’s where the real magic, and possibility, begins.

 

Photos: Taken daily through the middle of July during peak corn sweat season. The husky’s consistently happy and joyful demeanor serves as a constant reminder that positivity is always worth choosing. Meanwhile, the shiba exhibits his comfort preferences in his own delightful way.

 
Next
Next

disruption