When I was in college I flew quite a bit. I went to school in VA and lived in CO. I traveled the eastern seaboard with one friend or another. I saw new places. I tried new foods and smelled new scents.
I went on a trip to Mexico City and another one to Haiti.
I knew that I would spend my life travelling and collecting adventures and experiences.
Then, I graduated. I got a job. I got married. I had kids. Somewhere in there my life became smaller. Somewhere in there I became afraid of flying. Afraid of travel, of new things. Afraid of adventure and experiences.
I developed a comfort zone and it was very small.
I went to San Francisco this week. I had to climb out of that comfort zone and get on a plane. But you know what? Once I made that first step over the boundary line, I had a great time. Turns out it isn’t really that uncomfortable outside the comfort zone. The painful part is just climbing out.
This week I explored by myself. I talked to strangers. I saw new places and things. I heard many languages and accents and tried new foods. I smelled new scents. I felt alive. I felt like me. This is me. The person who loves adventure, exploring, and experiencing.
I found my heart.
Now my challenge is to keep that old familiar comfort zone from engulfing me again. How can I keep alive? Keep outside that zone? I’ve decided to start by renaming. See, I was far more comfortable this week than I’ve been in a long time. “Comfort zone” is a misnomer. I’m going to call it what it is: Fear zone.
Yesterday I saw this video on my friend Joyce’s FB and it so vividly depicts what it’s like to leave that fear zone. Our little tiny lives can become normal to us. We can forget who we are, what we were made for, and where we belong.