Out of the Zone

(Nuts-and-bolts posts are coming; once I finish the run of Laughter on the 23rd Floor on Sunday, I'll have more attention to focus on getting things done, so expect me to write about clearing out my classroom, garage sales, house rental, and the like shortly.)

Today's reflection begins with a quote:

"Life begins at the end of your comfort zone." -Neale Donald Walsch

This quote, which a dear friend from my undergrad days at Graceland University posted on Facebook this morning, got me thinking. It seems that I've always believed it to be true—the things that really matter to me: learning, growth, love—all happen outside my comfort zone. The things that (for me) make life life aren't really "comfortable" things.

I'm not suggesting that they're painful—it's not pain as such that makes them uncomfortable—rather, they're uneasy, messy, disruptive things...yes, disruptive. And as with exercise, there can be some discomfort—aches and the like—accompanying these wonderful, meaningful, important, significant, uncomfortable things.

As a teacher, I see the impact learning can have. Many years ago, in one of my education classes at Graceland, I read that a change in behavior is the most sensitive evidence of learning, and that idea has stuck with me. Learning changes behavior. Learning changes the learner. I see it in my classroom: when students make a personal connection with a concept or idea—when they own what is taught and truly learn it for themselves—they are affected, sometimes quite powerfully. It disrupts the status quo. I think any of us can look around and find evidence of how disruptive learning truly is, which may explain why some prefer ignorance.

To see how disruptive growth is, all you have to do is walk down the sidewalk of an older neighborhood that has trees lining the street. Your feet will tell you about growth and disruption. As those trees grew, their roots heaved and cracked the sidewalk. Our comfort zone has a definite size, and growth will exceed those boundaries sooner or latter. If we insist on planting ourselves in a pot and growing, we're going to crack a few pots in the course of it. Growth cannot both continue and be kept within our comfort zone.

Love is perhaps the least comfortable, most disruptive thing of all. Not that it isn't comforting in time of trouble so much as it's troubling in time of comfort. Love changes and challenges us; it demands more of us than simple pleasure. When another's wellbeing becomes as important to us as our own, our behavior changes. We do things differently because another's wellbeing has become as important to us as our own. And a change in behavior (to bring us full circle) evinces learning.

Somehow or another, I find myself in middle age. There was a time in my life when I thought or assumed that as one aged, comfort became more important and more appropriate. Now that I find myself older, I don't think that's true.

No matter how old I am, no matter how long I live, I will always value learning, growth, and love (and the greatest of these is love), and these things cannot be contained within my comfort zone.

For me, my comfort zone is a casket, and I'm not ready to lie down yet.

This reflection brings me comfort. It affirms to me that this grand adventure is harmonious with my values and nature. It brings me peace.

6 weeks, 3 days, 2 hours 24 minutes.