Hurricane Irma a/k/a NOT the Push Out of My Comfort Zone I was Looking For...

Since I started thinking about venturing beyond the comfort zone, my focus has been on taking intentional steps--deciding what and when, where and for how long--baby steps, experiments, dipping my toes in the water or possibly wading just a little bit.  This approach has been my chosen approach exactly because it is by nature comfortable. This? I can do this! It's temporary. If I hate it, I can quickly retreat. No problem.




Then Hurricane Irma came along to remind me...sometimes, we get thrust rudely out of our comfort zones and are reminded that we are powerless in so many ways. Not a great feeling, I must say.


I've alternated between feeling really calm and being on the verge of panic (inability to breathe and all that entails).

The preparation you go through in anticipation of a hurricane is partially practical, but mostly just to make yourself feel better. Surround yourself with enough food, water, flashlights, batteries, candles, etc., and you can almost convince yourself that you're "ready."


But, here's the thing. Mother Nature is more powerful than all the banana bread in the world. Which, while awesome in the truest sense of the word, is hardly comforting. No wonder I've been doing so much baking. I will comfort myself and my family. Mother Nature be damned.


I'm not sure what all of this is teaching me. Nothing I really wanted to know, that's certain.


But a few positives:


1) Objectively, we are in a reasonably safe location and are reasonably well-prepared. We may lose power, we may have some flooding, but in all likelihood, we will survive, relatively unscathed. (All of this has turned out to be true. It is sobering, however, to walk and drive around and see all the damage. So many have lost so much.)


2) We have loving family and friends. So many people have checked on us, offered to help, held us in their thoughts and prayers, and just showed us so much love and encouragement.


3) We have each other, and there is so much joy and comfort in that. I love my family and my home.


4) I am learning more about my comfort zone, my power and control (and lack thereof). I am being challenged, and so far, I'm up for it.


5) I'm essentially an introvert. So, being stuck at home in my PJs with my favorite people in the world, my books, some comfort food, candles, and wine is just fine with me.


Thanks for all of the support, and here's to those out there on the front lines! I'm so grateful!

When All Else Fails...Make Banana Bread

So, getting out of your comfort zone is uncomfortable. And I think it's unreasonable to think that you can just stay in the uncomfortable zone constantly. If you don't give yourself a break occasionally, you might just give up, snuggle up in your favorite chair with a good book, and not try anything new for years!

For those moments when you feel the need to comfort yourself and re-energize for your next excursion beyond your comfort zone, I suggest banana bread. I mean, who doesn't have a couple of overly ripe bananas laying around most days?  Just throw them in a bowl and squish them up.

Then, add melted butter, sugar, eggs, vanilla, baking soda, salt, and flour. Mix gently. Also mix together some sugar and cinnamon.  Put part of the batter in the bread pan, sprinkle some of the oh-so-comforting cinnamon and sugar mix on top, then add the rest of the batter, and then the last of the cinnamon and sugar on top. Throw it in the oven for 45 minutes or so...

Voila!

Eat while it's still warm from the oven. Mmmmm...

There. Don't you feel better? Now get up, get out there, and do something new! Report back here for input and encouragement!

(Here's the recipe if you want it...it's a good one...throw in some chocolate chips if you're feeling the need for extra comfort!)

Adventures Beyond My Comfort Zone...

For several years, I had foolishly convinced myself that always sticking with the known, the familiar, the comfortable--my beloved routines--was a function of my somewhat introverted nature and my seemingly innate desire to live a simple life. 


And while there is nothing wrong with routines or with living simply, these things should not be confused with living fully. To do that, you've got to get out of your comfort zone. Trying new things allows you to discover different aspects of yourself, and having this curiosity and courage is vital.


I had so filled my live with everything that was familiar and routine, I forgot to leave space for the unexpected, growth, challenging and thinking deeply about my beliefs, hope, possibility, wonder.  And ultimately, developing and strengthening my faith.


I was placidly living my life, thinking I had it all figured out.


Amazing how something comes along to rock your world every time.


Most recently for me was my dismay over the number of people who voted for our current president, who is a malignant narcissist and represents the opposite of every value I possess.


As I emerge from my depression, I am recognizing that having your world view challenged is actually a good thing. I've been asking myself some difficult questions and realizing that, if my faith is so easily shattered, I have some work to do. But it's not meant to be easy, right?


Some of what I've been doing is connecting with different people and reconnecting with familiar people in new ways. I'm becoming a bit more outspoken about my views and more willing to share my fundamental beliefs, as well as emerging ones that are still developing.


For the foreseeable future, I'm resurrecting my blog to share and reflect upon my journey out of my comfort zone, and I hope you will tag along. Maybe share some of your own ideas and experiences (I'm always open to guest bloggers!). I also received some recent feedback that my previous blogs were a little dark, so I'm also hoping to lighten things up a bit!


So far, my first steps have been small ones...participating in a protest march...going out to dinner alone...planning my own birthday celebration...setting up some friends on a blind date...becoming a member of our local art museum...sipping a little moonshine...


I could go on, but becoming a member at the Appleton is where I'm focused currently. The extent of my artistic ability includes writing and singing. That's it. I love art, I appreciate art, but I have no ability when it comes to drawing, painting, etc.


My youngest son, however, is a budding artist. He went to several art camps this summer, and when I was looking at the offerings for the fall, I noticed my new favorite museum also has opportunities for adults. So, on a whim, I signed myself up for a pottery class, which meets at the same time that Ben will be taking his drawing/painting class.


I'm pretty terrified that, given my lack of artistic ability and general klutziness, it is going to go something like this...

Nonetheless, I shall persevere...stay tuned!

Connections and Kindness

I recently saw a post on Facebook of a friend visiting her parents' grave. She's from WV and knew my family when we lived there, and it crossed my mind to ask her if she would send me a photo of my mom's grave.

I pretty much immediately banished the thought from my mind. Quickly realizing that I shouldn't ask her to substitute my grief for her own. At least not at that moment in time, when she was clearly focused on honoring her own parents. I can be self-centered, and I'm on a quest to recognize, interrupt, and become more in tune to the needs of others. So, I put the thought aside and made a mental note to maybe ask her about it at a later, more appropriate time.

The next day, she sent me this photo. To say I was overwhelmed is to say the least. Apparently, she has never had the same struggle with selfishness that I have battled. Without my ever saying a word, she thought of me and knew that I would probably appreciate a photo. And I did. And still do.

I've only ever visited my mother's grave twice. 

The first time shortly after her death. A teenage girl desperate with grief and no idea what to do with my overwhelming emotions. I lay on her grave, wept, and prayed for the ground she was buried in to swallow me up as well.

Then again years later when I took my husband to see her gravesite. A young adult embarking on marriage and motherhood. Overwhelmed by everything she and my children would never have. She would have loved being a grandmother. And they would have loved her.

Today, I have lived more than 30 years without her. I am older now than she was when she died. The scar on my face is a daily reminder of the tragic accident that took her life and changed mine forever.

The only wisdom I have are the same old clichés. Life is joy and pain. Fear, failure, regret. Courage, triumph, hope. Realizing that the little things are the big things. Appreciating the daily routines that seem unchanging but will not last forever. Not being afraid to try new things and take some chances. Don't stop until you have to. Life is short. Make the most of it...

A Child in Aleppo, a Child in Scarsdale, and Ruth

Like so many, I've been haunted by this child, injured in the fighting in war torn Aleppo, Syria.

The sweetness of the six-year-old boy from New York, who wrote this letter to President Obama has also had such an impact on me. Especially the line where he says, "We will give him a family and he will be our brother."

One of my favorite passages in the Bible is from the book of Ruth, and somehow the cadence of the words and the sentiment expressed by this child continue to remind me of the lines that Ruth says to her mother-in-law that are also hauntingly simple and completely lovely.

Perhaps it is also the fact that these children, like Ruth and Naomi, are not connected by blood or country or religion or ethnicity. Just humanity and love.

Do I Stay or Do I Go?

The saga continues. Not wanting to just disappear, I met with my pastor, and ended up having an awesome conversation. As always, I am reminded that the world does not revolve around me. There are so many things that are so much bigger and more important, and I always appreciate the perspective. This meeting, of course, also allowed me to connect with another human being in a very real way, and now, I'd like to go back and eat a few of my previous words spoken in haste and the heat of the moment. He is truly called to the ministry and is facing his own struggles and challenges, yet he put that aside to listen and support me and was willing to be so open with me. What a gift.

But the truth still remains...to paraphrase John Pavlovitz (a really interesting pastor who I enjoy following on Facebook)...I'm feeling a bit like an outcast in my own skin.

The current church no longer fits, and I'm exceedingly anxious about trying on a new one. What do I owe to the church family who welcomed me back to the church? What do I owe to my growing recognition that my views don't fit and aren't really nurtured here? Do I speak and try to change things, or do I move on to a place that is more in line with my beliefs and values? How do I best serve God?

So I'm in limbo. A time of discernment. Wishing I was just quietly following my familiar routine. Realizing it had become a rut.

Leaving with Integrity

I am usually the type to become quieter and quieter, more and more withdrawn. It's like I wish I could just disappear.

However, this time, painful as it may be, I'd like to try to do things a better way. 

Part of my nature is to be quiet and contemplative, especially when I'm troubled or faced with a major decision. I don't really gossip, though I may reach out for advice and guidance to a trusted few.

Now that it is clear to me that God is leading me in a new direction, I need to tell those who are important to me, and to whom I am important, that I am going. And I'm praying for the right words. The right time. 

So that I can be honest without resorting to gossip or cruelty. 

Clear without reducing this decision to game-playing. 

Resolute so that they can understand this was not a decision made lightly but only after much prayer, thought, and heartache.

Kind so they know my love for them is not diminished.

And then I will need courage to take the next steps. I am such a creature of habit. I love my routines, the knowing, the sameness. Adventures terrify me. It would be easier to stay, yet at the same time, impossible. This place is no longer my place.