Torch is going to push me
When I was about five, my mom signed me up for gymnastics. The teacher said, "okay, get on that bar up there and do a flip." That bar... way, way up there. I said no. It just seemed inadvisable for someone who didn't want to break her neck. Too far beyond my comfort zone.
We are frequently asked to leave our comfort zones. You know the feeling. Driving in really bad traffic. Singing karaoke. Dancing in public. Standing up for our rights. It's different for everyone, but if you want to grow at all, you have to leave your zone sometimes. I leave mine quite frequently at derby practice.
Last night the leaders on our team were going through the list of assessments so we could see what we needed to work on, and they asked me if I had ever practiced getting pushed into other people. Is there a way to word that so it doesn't sound so funny? During bouts, especially for new girls, there's a lot to take in. If you are on the track and the other team's jammer is skating right past you and you don't move to stop her, one of your teammates might give you a push to help you out. Yes, this was outside of my comfort zone. But instead of saying no like I did in gymnastics class and countless other times over the past 20-something years, I said "uhmmmm, well... okay."
I have never before tried any contact sport, so getting comfortable with my teammates grabbing and pushing and pulling me is something I've seriously got to work on. I always knew that that and understanding how the game works and how I fit into it would be much more challenging for me than any fall, turn, or stop. It's not going to happen in a night. Last night, as the veteran skaters tried their best to push me in the right direction, I was stiff and difficult to move. I need to loosen up and trust they are pushing me where I need to go. It's just not that easy when my brain is saying DON'T FALL! It's been saying that for years, whether it's a social fall or an emotional fall or a physical one. But even though I left my comfort zone very nervously last night, I did leave it, and I fell. Lots. And it was fine. There was some improvement, even though I went home wishing I had met that challenge with a yes, knowing I could have done better if I'd done it with my whole heart.
My favorite college professor, with whom I am still friends on Facebook, saw that I had started derby and introduced me to an awesome derby girl from out of state. She has years and years of experience. The other day she sent me my first helmet sticker, along with a few pages of advice, including this: "If you get too happy or too worried, you get out of the focused zone. Respect the danger." Yes. I need to do that. I've signed up and paid dues and bought skates. I'm definitely not quitting; I don't think I could. I've decided it's worth it, so I need to be all in.
I am still glad I said no to the flip on the high bar, by the way. I was never meant to fly as gymnasts do, up in the air on bars and beams. But I am glad for the opportunity to leave my comfort zone at derby practice. We all need to spend a little time outside of that zone, doing something worthwhile to us. It's the best way to grow ourselves into more powerful people.
Where does the boundary of your comfort zone lie, and in what ways do you choose to leave it?
