Comfort Zone

Do you really embrace change?If asked to fill out a personality trait survey, I would confidently check off “adventurous” with a big black Sharpie.  Well at least that’s the story I tell myself.  After all, at the young age of 15 years old I got on a plane headed to Paris, alone, right?  And while pieces and parts of those experiences come together to inform the whole, the truth is that, I am often detoured by the seduction of my comfort zone.  It’s comfy there.  Though I view myself as this bold soul who loves travel and all things new, when given the opportunity to push the envelope, the excuses start flowing like a river after a rainstorm.  It’s a hidden talent.  Quite adept at this excuse-making skill, I can muster “very important” (not) scheduling conflicts in a nanosecond, creating mental roadblocks between me and new horizons.  At the core of all of this is a small anchor of fear keeping me bound to the placation of that which is familiar - my beautiful own Private Idaho where I keep the myth of adventure alive and well.  Come on, we all do it – admittedly, some more than others, but the comfort zone should be a place to take pause, not take up residency.What holds you back?In what aspect of your life do you need to push your own envelope?Stretching beyond that space of complacency allows us to step into all that is possible.  That, of course sounds like a lot of blah, blah, blah when confronted by the anxiety of the unknown, and certainly doesn’t make it any easier.  I am writing what I need to hear right now, what I need to remind myself of.  This week I pushed myself right out of my hiking boots and comfy jeans, pulled the ‘ol “uniform” (i.e. my best classic designer handbags and shoes, snazzy clothes, make-up etc.) out of the closet and headed to New York City to attend a kick-ass workshop on public speaking.  Did someone just say, “public speaking?”  YIKES.  That in itself is enough to blare the “Danger Will Robinson” alarms.  So with my transformed New Yorker exterior, I stepped off my train and marched off through the concrete jungle like a native, not a visitor passing through.  I remembered how to do it.This isn’t the first time I’ve tried to talk myself out of doing something that would ultimately benefit me and help me grow.  Guilty as charged, I recall doing the very same last summer for a writer’s workshop.  In theory, it all sounded great until it was time to sign on the dotted line.  I mustered excuse upon excuse to back out of it and remain beneath the comfort of my proverbial covers (the garden needed weeding, I shouldn’t spend the $, my son had yet another baseball game…you name it, I tried it).  But those around me weren’t having any of it.  They weren’t going to allow me to squirm out of this one, no Siree!  “You’re going.  You have to do it.  It will be fabulous and will take you to the next step.”  They were right, of course.  But in that moment I didn’t want to hear any of it.  In stomped the inner child pouting, arms crossed, huffing.  Alas, despite her best efforts, I had run out of excuses.  BTW – the event was amazing.With that in mind, off I went last week.  Yes, I had butterflies in my stomach and was so nervous I could hardly eat my breakfast.But beautiful things grow from pushing through.  On the other side of fear lies possibility.  Pumped up by adrenaline and excitement, I stayed the course.  And by day two, I was delivering a 2-minute talk before a live audience and being recorded by several cameras, almost comfortable.  Triumph.