Life begins at the end of your comfort zone

There are few things more humiliating than being laughed at. Especially by second-graders.

It was 2011, and I was on my 1st ever snowboarding trip. Though I didn’t like skiing and had never gone snowboarding before, I lived close enough to the Alpine region of Europe that opportunities abounded to learn. So, I rented a board, piled in the car with my experienced friends, and got up the courage to take a few lessons before hitting the slopes.

The entire day I felt like a complete idiot.

I could, in no way, exit a chair lift without hitting the snow face first. I nearly veered off the side of a cliff. And the only way I made it down the easiest slope was falling on my backside 75% of the way. But the most uncomfortable thing, by far, was being passed up at lightning speed by eight-year-old Austrians making fun of me in German.

That was humiliating. The nerve of those twerps, amiright? You try a new sport in your thirties, you big meanies.

I was, after all, learning something new…something that required my body to undertake new movements, balanced motion, and situational awareness. There was a whole culture around skiing and snowboarding that I only understood at a bare minimum. There were new bits of etiquette to demystify. There were environmental cues that I had to comprehend.

It was easy to feel overwhelmed.

But, by the third time out, I was mostly able to keep up with my friends. Of course, I had no style, but what I didn’t have in moves I made up for in the joy of learning something new.

If you have ever read Bill Perkin’s book, Die With Zero, he goes into great detail to describe how there are things that we can best experience when we are young, that we are unlikely to be able to do as we age. For me, trying out snowboarding was one of these things.

I lived in Europe and had access to this opportunity that I might not have again. Even though it isn’t at the top of my list of activities, I look back at those memories fondly, and realize what an awesome time I had being in the beauty of nature and hanging out with friends.

Still, none of it would have happened if I had let discomfort get the better of me. Since that time, my husband and I have had very little opportunity to hit the slopes. It’s not just that we live in the flat pancake region of the Midwest. Things like available time off being earmarked for family obligations, or money put towards a new roof. Whatever it was, our opportunities have been reduced since 2011. Also, since then, we have both gotten older and have been to PT for a variety of bodily injuries. Bill Perkins was right.

More recently, I had another opportunity to get uncomfortable. I was asked to participate in a local storytelling event.  Before I even realized what was coming out of my mouth, I had agreed to share a story. If you are familiar with The Moth, the event was styled similarly, meaning I would have to get up on stage. In front of a crowd. And tell a personal story.

Yikes. Enter discomfort.

I had in the past, been on stage many times, as a player in theatrical performances. But this was different. I would have to be me, telling a personal story, no character to hide behind.

The crazy thing was, in saying “yes” to something that pushed me out of my comfort zone, I ended up crossing paths with people at that very event that I never may have met. After myself and several other storytellers had finished, I stayed and talked, getting to know a handful of fun and interesting people.

So, this thing that seemed uncomfortable and scary went ok. Apart from the fact that I am not used to using a microphone and the impromptu stage was a little wobbly. But nobody heckled me, not even the eight-year-old that was present.

I might even do the next event.  Crazy, right? And, I’ve met people who do other new and challenging things, like salsa dancing and improv.  Who knows the next thing I’ll have the opportunity to say “yes” to.

This month, we actually had a snowboarding trip scheduled.  We were excited, making lodging arrangements and getting ready to purchase newer outerwear. But then we had to cancel... due to an unforeseen conflict with our son’s extracurricular activities. >sigh<

At this point, I don’t know if I’ll ever get to go snowboarding again, but that’s OK. I have great memories from the times when I leaped over the end of my comfort zone and skidded down the side of a mountain. And I take solace in knowing those heckling eight-year-olds are now entering their own journey into adulthood, and the very likely possibility that they will need to get uncomfortable living life too.