When I was a kid, I hated the phone. Oh, I didn’t mind talking to someone when they called me but calling them? Unless they were very close friends, neighbors, or family, I had a total freak out. I’d miss going to a movie because I couldn’t bring myself to call the theater to find out what time the movie was showing. Could I tell you why I had such a phobia? Nope. No idea. I even took a job once as an employment counselor for one of those “find-you-a-job” companies. In addition to talking to prospective clients, I had to call prospective employers and solicit jobs. It’s called “cold calling” in the marketing game. What’s weird, is these people didn’t know me and they’d likely forget me within moments of hanging up, but I’d sit there staring at the phone, short of breath, hands shaking, my stomach roiling. I lasted four weeks. I was going into the boss’s office to quit when she called me in to fire me. We were both relieved. That said, I did manage to place every one of my “clients.”

Anyway, when I came across this message from the Universe, it struck a chord. I still hate making phone calls and have to put on a “persona” to do so (thank goodness for texting and email!), but it also made me thing of something else–something related to writing. Writers can fall into a rut. We find our comfort zone and stay there. I notice it when it happens to an author I read a lot. And I notice it in my own writing. I get complacent, write what comes easy. I don’t reach for the chancy, the edgy. I settle for words instead of prose. So yeah, I need to pay attention.

It’s quite the paradox, Silver, but the more one pushes themselves into areas of discomfort – gently, just a bit, from time to time – the more comfortable they become.

And vice versa.

Thunk it, who’d of?
The Universe
© http://www.tut.com ®

Yeah, Silver, that’s a wicked vice versa, if you know what I mean.

There’s comfortable, and then there’s comfortable. I need to be comfortable, if you know what I mean. Where’s your comfort zone?