At some point, we developed a societal impression that the direction a clock moves is the natural way of doing things. Clockwise is the default pattern, it’s the order you take turns in a card game — it’s ubiquitous. The opposite direction doesn’t even have its own word; it’s just counterclockwise. It isn't a different, equally viable option, but a deviation from the standard.

Coincidentally, counterclockwise is also the direction that my wife walks around the body of water near our home. For reasons beyond me, I take the path clockwise. I doubt there’s any rhyme or reason to it; most likely, the dog smelled something interesting in that direction the first time we went, and thus our routine was set.

Despite the randomness of that choice, I still couldn’t believe that my wife was walking the opposite direction. Didn’t she know that the angle of the sunrise was especially gorgeous when you follow the trail clockwise? I explained this and my other very compelling reasons to take the path the opposite direction, which earned me a laugh and an, “Okay, Mr. Rigid.”

I’ve been walking this path the same direction for almost five years. I know where things are, and I know the familiar morning crowd. But when I took my wife’s approach and followed the trail counterclockwise, it all seemed so different.

I didn’t see people the same way simply because we were coming at each other from different positions. Where before I would have recognized them by their gait or their dog, they seemed like totally different entities as I passed them from the opposite direction. My apologies to those nice people to whom, in my ignorance of our previous association, I failed to give the standard polite nod of acknowledgment.

It wasn’t just the people, though. I discovered interesting architectural features of houses along the path, a brightly colored door or intricate detailing on columns. And the sunlight hit the water in the most gorgeous way that I hadn’t been able to appreciate on my usual route.

Was the walk markedly better because I took the counterclockwise path? Not really. It was beautiful, but I live in Florida, so that’s kind of the standard. I was there just as early, sweat just as much, and saw the same people.

Every inch of pavement was exactly the same, but my experience of it was novel. So I asked myself, where else am I taking the path clockwise simply because that’s how I’ve always done it? One area that I identified was the way that I digest information on the businesses that I manage or consult for.

I always hate the end of the month because I have entirely too much data coming my way. With all these facts and figures swarming around me, I simply can’t give it all the proper time that it demands when everything needs handling right this moment. And when I’m overwhelmed, I fall back on my routine. I know how each company presents their data, I know my processes for analysis, and I look at each company in an A, B, C, order. In other words, I take the path clockwise.

I try to finish things quickly so I can provide timely assistance and insights, but by the time I get to D, E, and F, those companies just aren’t getting the same attention that A and B receive. They’re no less important, but by that point, I’ve done so many laps on the path that I’m just not seeing them anymore. So this last month, I started at F and worked my way up the alphabet.

I didn’t have any huge epiphanies that would radically alter the path of these businesses. But I did find all kinds of actionable information that would have remained in the shadows if I’d approached them from my usual, clockwise perspective. To me, that’s a pretty successful experiment.

Maybe next month I’ll start with C and D and go a different direction. Even though the path is the same, changing my direction gives me a different perspective and a different energy that I can apply to it. And if all I get out of this approach is seeing things from a different angle, then I think the experience will have been well worth it.