Loyalty, trustworthy, honesty. Things you would always look for in a friend. Things you have all heard before.

But I believe one of the most underrated traits to have that I almost never hear, is spontaneity. More specifically, consistent spontaneity.

Notre Dame Research Computing

It was around the second week of my summer program at Notre Dame when an event suddenly popped up in my Google calendar at McKenna Hall.

I'd been going to every event up—maybe out of FOMO, or maybe just momentum—so I skipped out on doing laundry for that day, and took the ten-minute walk across the street to attend this meeting.

Now at this point, I have forgotten what the exact event was called, and lost the ability to access that google calendar, but what I was expecting was totally different from what I was met with.

As I walked into the conference room in McKenna hall, I was greeted with rows of empty seats, and two people in business-casual attire waiting for me at the end of the room on stage:

Am I in the right place? Did I come at the right time? Is “this” what the event was called?

Turns out they were graduate students from Ireland, here for a course at the IDEA lab—Notre Dame's entrepreneurship hub. They'd organized this pitch session to practice their idea and get feedback from students. I was the only one who showed up.

They explained that a few days earlier, in one of the first days of their program, they were assigned a task to create and pitch something to the class and the professor.

So they pitched, and like nearly every idea’s first iteration, it wasn’t very good.

I vividly remember how their product was essentially to solve the problems that high schoolers had with transitioning into college, and finding mentors.

It was very clear why they wanted to speak to students specifically.

So after the pitch, I gave them my honest feedback. I mentioned how personally I wouldn't use the product since I already had people to talk to and resources about college.

"Yeah, that makes sense," they said. "But students like you aren't really our main market."

"That's fair," I replied, "but even for that market, there are already a lot of similar products out there." I walked them through a few competitors I'd seen.

Looking back, it was probably tough to hear—being the only person to show up to your event and then getting critical feedback. But they took it in stride. They knew the idea needed work, and they appreciated having someone to workshop it with. That resilience stuck with me.

What’s the point?

How does this have anything to do with consistent spontaneity?

Well, there are a few ways in which it relates/why I told it:

1. It was a pretty cool story that I really wanted to share.
2. My spontaneity helped me meet new people, who I still talk to up until this day.
3. My time at that camp and a subsequent drum major camp exposed me to many of these people, who pushed me out of my comfy dorm room, and dragged me to events that I will never forget to this day.

Connection

One of the two people really helped me throughout the rest of my time there.

Not only did David give me a tour of the IDEA lab, let me sit in on his conversations he had with his mentor, and introduced me to one of the directors of the IDEA lab, but he continued to send me interesting articles and entrepreneurship news months after we met.

And I can’t help but credit that connection to show up to the event off of a random whim.

I never really thought about it, for most of my life I would always be hyper-active for adventures. It didn’t matter if it was a 3:00AM hangout at night or 6:00AM early morning run, I was always down.

Something I really value

I love people who are consistently spontaneous.

There aren't many people in my life I could spontaneously explore downtown with, try a new activity with, or embark on a side adventure without a clear plan. But when I find those people? They're invaluable.

If showing up is 80% of success, these are the people who make showing up easier. They push you past the anxiety of trying something new. They turn "maybe next time" into "let's go right now." You can always count on them for a sidequest.

Now, I want to be clear: this all comes with baseline assumptions. We're talking about people who are also trustworthy, loyal, responsible, and authentic. Those qualities are the foundation.

But here's what makes consistent spontaneity rare—it's genuinely hard to balance all of these at once. Being reliably available for adventures while also being dependable in the traditional sense requires real effort. These are people who rarely default to "I'm too tired" or "I don't feel like it." They actively seek out experiences and connection, even when it would be easier to stay home.

When I find people who manage this balance—who are both adventurous and grounded—those friendships become the ones I treasure most.

Consistency

The "consistent" part matters as much as the spontaneity. It's about being reliably available—not just spontaneous when convenient. These are people who build adventure and connection into their identity, not just their schedule. For me, it's driven by a few things: curiosity, a deep desire to connect with others, and this awareness that the opportunities I have right now won't last forever.

No matter how hard I try, these moments—being young, having the energy, living in this exact time and place—will one day just be memories. I can't turn back time, so I try not to let those moments pass me by.

Conclusion

Consistent spontaneity: the most underrated trait to have, and the most underrated trait to look for in others.

I believe that 80% of success is showing up. And when I surround myself with people who push me to consistently show up—who turn "maybe later" into "right now"—I build habits that position me to enjoy my life to the fullest.

So far, this has looked like 3:00 AM IHOP runs with the saxophone section after grueling band competitions. Spontaneous dinners after show choir performances. Late-night drives with no destination. Adventures that made no logical sense when I was running on two hours of sleep and every part of me wanted to collapse into bed.

I won't always have this luxury. Eventually, life will demand more structure, responsibilities will multiply, and some windows will close. There will be seasons where saying yes to every sidequest isn't sustainable or even possible.

But right now, while I can still choose the adventure over the comfort of my bed, I say yes to every chance for connection and adventure, even when it's inconvenient. These are the memories I'll carry forward. Not the nights I stayed in because I was tired, but the ones where I pushed through fatigue and found something worth remembering.