Why We Take Familiarity for Granted: Lessons from a Palm Tree

As I sit on my back deck watching the palms sway in the breeze, I remember the first time I ever saw a palm tree—and the awe that washed over me.

I was young, around 8 or 10 years old, and our family vacation that year was to Galveston, Texas. This was a departure from the normal annual road trips that would usually land us in Colorado or similar destinations. We were going to see the Gulf of Mexico, not really an ocean, but the closest thing I would see in my childhood. I was beyond excited! Somehow, despite five girls shoved in the back of a station wagon, I had managed to fall asleep. I can still remember waking up and spotting that massive palm tree planted in the median of a city street. I thought it was the coolest thing I’d ever seen.

There is so much to remember about that trip. Sitting on the beach, splashing around in the Gulf, and the nearly third-degree sunburns we suffered in our pre-sunscreen world. Yet, my clearest memory is looking up to see that palm tree, and after leaving Galveston, I wouldn’t see another one for nearly 20 years.

Living in Arizona and seeing palm trees every day has made them feel less intriguing than they once were. It’s interesting how we take things for granted when they’re everywhere. Why do we crave what we lack, yet not value it as much when we have it? The answer is easy—abundance dulls our appreciation, and despite our efforts to stay grateful, this is simply human nature.

While the ability to see a specific type of tree regularly seems trivial, it symbolizes how we often don’t realize how much something matters to us until it’s at risk or we’ve lost it. But maybe that isn’t all bad. It’s good to be thankful for what we have, but can being too complacent prevent us from moving on and exploring new avenues? Maybe we are meant to get weary of things that we once strongly desired so we can enjoy new endeavors. I can recount so many times in my life when discontentment brought about positive change.

I remember how excited I felt leaving the workforce to stay home with my kids. However, as they got older, I began to believe that I really needed more, and honestly, having a career has led to personal growth. But true to form, on those super long, stressful days, I found myself wishing I was doing a load of laundry, whipping up some lunches, or tagging along on a field trip.

Years later contemplating moves to a different states, there was much to consider. I kept asking myself what would be better and what I’d end up missing. What’s funny is that I ended up missing the stuff I hadn’t even thought about. And as for people, I quickly learned that I can make new friends, but they never replace the old ones. Even those I hadn’t realized were important to me. Both moves were good decisions and my life improves,despite my pattern of wanting one thing and then another.

Funny that so much retrospect and pondering can come from watching a palm tree, which triggered a childhood memory. I have often wondered why some memories stick with us and others get totally erased from our psyche. Maybe there is a reason, and the ones we subconsciously refuse to forget help us grow in some way.

The wind picks up, and the soft tinkling of wind chimes drifts through the air, lifting me gently into another time and place.