I don’t know about you, but I love my comfort zone.
Especially as we slip into autumn here in the Midwest, I want to get cozy. A crisp quilt tucked into my lap. A warm mug of chai in hand. A few extra pillows atop my already overstuffed reading chair. It’s a season of seeking comfort as the leaves around us change, fall quiet, die.
The comfort zone invites us to settle in and be present. To exist and enjoy. But stepping out of our comfort zone? That’s where we grow and connect with new types of joy.
I met someone at a coffee shop who pointed to my motorcycle helmet and said, “You’re so brave. I’d be terrified to drive a motorcycle.”
“Oh, I am!” I assured them, having only recently completed my basic riding skills course. “I just drive scared.”
I’m a realist. I know I’m steering a road vehicle that doesn’t stand a chance next to the safety features of modern cars. But the feeling I get when driving one… that’s why I get uncomfortable.
A year and a half later, I’ve downgraded from fear to constant vigilance. The uncomfortable has become slightly less so.
There are new levels of joy and connection you can experience with writing, and they wait just outside your comfort zone. Find your "why," then find your footing.
- Tell someone new you’re writing a book or want to write one.
- Share some writing with a friend, even though it’s not “done” (try the scene exercise in this month's blog for ideas).
- Share some of your writing online.
- Work on that novel idea you feel you’re “not ready for yet.”
- Join a writers group locally or online. Meet new people, be vulnerable about writing.
- Join a book signing event or book convention as an attendee, author, or presenter.
What about that one thing crouched in the back of your mind that shocks your system with a flush of anticipation and anxiety? Yeah, do that thing!
Have the audacity to do something outside your comfort zone, but know it’s not all or nothing. You can stay in your cozy zone until you step out on purpose. You can do one uncomfortable thing and quickly return to the respite of the familiar.
Rest, store up your courage, and step out again.
