Comfort Zones …
Our little PC universe is losing its sense of humor and adventure. Yes, I admit I have some of those tendencies – as much as I remain a kid in my head, with age comes certain responsibility. Thus, the laying of the comfort zone foundation.
Wiki says “The comfort zone is a behavioural state within which a person operates in an anxiety-neutral condition”
“Anxiety-Neutral” what a scary phrase. Anxiety is a fuel, a catalyst and an awareness of emotions. Fight Club was not about comfort zones, but it did kick the sh** out of them.
Saturday night I witnessed a group of very talented dancers ice skating, many of which one would bet for the first time. As gifted on land as they might be, the frozen water was an equalizer. Counting measures gave way to counting shuffles steps to a hard landing, yet it was fun. Frowns lost the match to smiles and laughs 100 to nil.
So here is the rhetorical question list … when was the last time you tested your abilities, your thoughts, your fears, your love, your emotions, your skills, your self?
The circle can be large or small, a toe in the water or a dive off the cliff. We cannot all be Travis Pastrana, seemingly testing his limits everyday in pursuit of endorphin mania, because that is probably 199’s comfort zone. What parachute? That said, he does live in a world of calculated risk as limitless as it appears at first glance.
What happened to the fun? To quote George Bernard Shaw, “Youth is wasted on the young.” The thrill of trying something and be willing to fail or succeed in epic fashion is not for all, but what about just driving with your head out the window or tearing the do not remove label off the mattress?
The smile and rush does not come from the getting away with it, it comes from actually doing it.
The anxiety that makes the heart bounce out of the chest and force the eyes closed is what life is all about. Let the lip quiver, the legs shake, and the sweat bead. Live dangerously and walk into a meeting unprepared, wear the wrong clothes to a social function, or leave your phone home.
Only you can define your own comfort zone and tonight my brain asks whether the beautiful, bay window, voyeuristic abode has a door that opens to the outside? Bet it does, and at the very least … step outside and get a good breath of fresh air, let it out, and smile. It is ok if you run back in and lock the door, but that simple act has altered the “zone” and who knows what is next?