Comfort zones are interesting. We all have them, but they are all different.
Some of us have big, expansive zones, always ready to stretch to include new activities or challenges. Some of us have small zones, with rigid borders that are extremely reluctant to expand. My zone is somewhere in the middle: it is not too adventurous, and not too timid.
I know I’m stretching my comfort zone when I get anxious and feel the need to be extra prepared. For example, taking classes at the Junior College was a step outside my comfort zone. I hadn’t been to school in mumble-mumble years, and I’d be juggling my everyday commitments in addition to my classes and I’d be rubbing shoulders with people who had parents my age.
My response was to get everything that I could control nicely ordered: my schedule, my books, my plan, my childcare coverage, my route to and from campus, my knowledge of where things were on campus, etc. Once school was in session, I was able to be focused on the stuff I still needed to figure out, which pretty much came down to the computer and online parts of class.
I recently had an opportunity to attend a seminar in San Jose for my union. At first, I was excited, because I love learning, and it looked like a fun experience. As it got closer, and became more real, the fluttery part began to sneak up on me.
To get to San Jose, I would have to drive to San Jose. And back. By myself. I – and I say this with no exaggeration – hate driving in the Bay Area. Anytime you can be on a freeway that is both Something North and Something West, is wrong. And if you must merge on to a freeway across three lanes to exit on the left, that is also wrong. So, you see, getting to San Jose was going to stretch my comfort zone.
I printed my maps and directions. All of them: from home to the hotel; from the hotel to the union headquarters; from headquarters to the hotel; and from the hotel to home. I read them over multiple times. I gave myself pep talks. I reminded myself that I am a grownup, and grownups can do things like drive to unfamiliar cities.
And then, two days before I was to leave, chunks of the bridge that I was supposed to drive over started falling off, so they closed the bridge. Okay, then. Panic or regroup? I went to Plan B, and printed maps and directions that re-routed me from home to the hotel through San Francisco, and back again. (The bridge opened in time for me to drive over, so I went that way, after all, but I had my backup plans right next to me.)
The day I left it was pouring down rain, and the sky had darkened to twilight in the early afternoon. Somehow, I took a wrong bend and ended up on a city street in Oakland. I got directions back to the freeway, and managed to make it to San Jose, where I again got slightly lost. This time the directions were not as helpful, and I got more lost, until I realized I was on the street that my conference was going to be on the next day.
In triumph I pulled out my “headquarters to hotel” map and found my way to my destination. (By the way, the Santa Clara Biltmore has a lovely Mai Tai, if you are ever in the neighborhood.)
Returning home was a breeze, and I was flush with the success of my foray into the wilds of the East Bay. My comfort zone now includes getting to and from my union headquarters.
This week I am going to Sacramento for a different conference. The drive to and from is not quite as intimidating to me as the Bay Area, but there’s the whole “big city” part I am not excited about. I have my maps and directions, and my pep talks have begun in earnest; by this time next week, I’ll have a new notch on my comfort zone belt.
Juliana LeRoy wears many hats, including wife, mother, paraeducator and writer. She can be spotted around Windsor gathering material, or reached at ml****@so***.net.
