In the world of self-help and spiritual guidance, going outside our “comfort zone” is talked about as the only way toward growth. Well, I think the universe is trying to tell me something.
(See the little fox faces in the pattern? To commemorate seeing my first red fox ever while hiking in real life this year, I am drawn to fox things)
As a way to ease stress come fall and winter, I knit. Knitting is my comfort zone. From September through March, I want to make something for every single human I know.
But I injured myself this week. Knitting. Certainly not as embarrassing as people’s injuries in some of the ER reports I’ve transcribed, but nonetheless it can feel demoralizing to injure yourself in the comfort zone.
Thankfully, I live enough of a hermit-like existence that it’s very rare someone asks me how I’m doing (a lot to expect from my teen cohabitant), but if they did, I would say, “Oh this? This ice pack on my arm is from trying to rappel up a rock face. I wasn’t accustomed to pulling my body weight up a vertical surface using my forearms. Overdid it.”
Or maybe, “I decided to give paragliding a try and had a rough landing.”
Instead, I learned that doing any one thing for six straight hours, even if it brings comfort, is not recommended. I wonder, if it’s good for us to break out of our comfort zones, when the comfort zone becomes uncomfortable, is that a good thing? One of my several dreams of knitting full-time lead to this business card. Another when I was in my 20s was called Waterwoman Knits. I always return to the realities of making a living some more realistic way. Nevertheless, I shall go forth with what I enjoy with fortitude once my arm heals.
In taking a break from my rockin’ knitting in my spare time, here are a few bits of humor that made me laugh this week.
First, the Dalai Lama apparently has as difficult a time with compassionate nonjudgment as I do about a certain person. (Although he did say “But, I don’t know” after the impression, which is a great catch-all compassionate not knowing).
If I was a comedian, I would be this woman, except my glasses are not as awesome. (I see from the more recent performance she is no longer single but what she has to say is awesome either way).