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Blog Entry 34 of 47 What's happening in YOUR neighborhood?

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Stepping out of the comfort zone

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Contributed by: Becca Whitnall on 9/10/2007

In May or so I'm always a little bummed about not getting a real summer vacation anymore like when I was in school. The upside is that in September I revel in knowing I don't have to face an end to the fun. And with that in mind, I'm hitting the waves.

That's right, I'm learning to surf (...if by surfing we mean pulling on a rubberish suit which tends to make me feel more like an Aidel's chicken and artichoke casing-enwrapped sausage than a lithe, if laid back, athlete; taking the foam Costco long board my dad and I purchased out past the breakers; and watching him catch exactly one wave- boogie board style- before returning to shore).

Okay, so my first attempt wasn't all that successful, but despite feeling rather silly to only be learning now, at 30-cough-something, I'm going to do it. I've lived in California for nearly all my life and it's something I've always wanted to try. It's about time I pushed myself to do it.

You know, even as adults, we're encouraged to reach beyond our comfort zones and I'm not sure why that is, exactly. Intuitively, it feels right but I don't know what benefit it brings to society unless it's that our personal growth makes us happy and, in turn, makes us kinder and wiser as a whole.

I thought about all this last week as I watched a friend undergo a transformation out in the Nevada desert. When we arrived at Burning Man, the festival I mentioned in a previous column, Karen suffered a bit of sensory overload-as anyone would-at the creativity, freedom and sheer size of the event. While all that was overwhelming, it was the pervasive dust, though, that actually bothered her the most, I think.

Lacking convenient showers, my somewhat shell-shocked friend cleaned away the dust with baby wipes almost as soon as it landed on her-until, that is, the first real dust storm hit. It was in the midst of a white out (winds whipping the dust about so fiercely all you can see is white) that I perceived the change. From the safety of her tent, Karen emerged and stood, arms outstretched in part defiantly challenging the forces of nature as the tiny particles pelted her and partly as if to embrace the total experience. Only when she saw a neighbor in need did she alter her stance.

I suppose some may see something very "Lord of the Flies" in it. As time progressed, she was willing to let some of the societal restrictions drop (without, thankfully, feeling the need to spear Piggy) and be as near to free as we probably can be.

She agrees that was the moment of change.

"I was over the threshold. I stepped into Wonderland," she said.

Maybe that feeling in itself is why we encourage one another to push our boundaries.

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