Novelty

Every so often, I crave a break from routine—something new, fresh and thus exciting. I search out a new recipe, a new restaurant, a new pair of shoes, or a new hobby. These changes are not necessarily an improvement over what I already have; they are merely different than the usual. They provide a distraction from monotony, a temporary pleasure, a tinge of happiness.

Part of the pleasure of going on vacation is to go somewhere new and to experience something different—the more uncommon the location, the better. Most tourist sites cater to this desire by offering bungee jumping, zip-lining, drinks in weirdly shaped vessels—anything that jolts you out of the ordinary. After a few days, the novelty wears off, and you need something fresh to bring the same level of pleasure. 

“Of all the passions of mankind, the love of novelty most rules the mind. In search of this, from realm to realm we roam. Our fleets come loaded with every folly home.” (Shelby Foote—Historian)

In our search for novelty, we distractedly roam away from discipline. Our preoccupation with trifling baubles diverts our attention away from that which is enduring and stable. We seem to be especially susceptible to chasing after amusing follies during transitional stages of our life. Teens are known for pursuing fads, and those in mid-life crave change in the form of plastic surgery, motorcycles, and sports cars.

“The delight of opening a new pursuit, or a new course of reading, imparts the vivacity and novelty of youth even to old age.” (Benjamin Disraeli)

‘A new course of reading’ seems rather tame compared to modern versions of frivolity. As I go through middle age, I am bound to chase after new forms of amusements that distract me from the reality of aging. If only I could manage to pick pursuits that somehow improve my life or that of others. If only I could stay away from predictable gimmicks and damaging diversions.