I was driving the family through the mountains a couple of summers ago and saw a sign that read, “Danger – Blasting Zone.” It got my attention. I suddenly imagined driving the Ramsey minivan swiftly through a series of explosions set off by an errant cell phone call. Soon, another sign said that we were out of “danger” and out of the zone. But for a few moments, I was way more aware of the situation. I was definitely awake!
But as “dangerous” as that blasting zone was, there’s one zone out there that’s way more sinister. It’s called the comfort zone.
Comfort zones are dangerous because they make people fear change. They keep people living in run-down houses. They will cause a person to sit on the couch instead of exercising. They prevent a person in an awful job from seeking a better one. Comfort zones chain people to what is perceived to be “safe.”
I wish they’d put up big orange warning signs outside of comfort zone like they do blasting zones. Because you stumble into them before you know it.
I know I did.
I was in one for ten years. When I moved to Jackson, I thought I’d be here five years and then get a better job. My career was taking off and I was ambitious. Then I got cancer. Suddenly I craved security like a fish craves water. I quickly “settled” in my daily grind. I quit trying new things. I turned down a great job. I hid in my comfort zone and got quite comfortable. There was no criticism there. No threat of change.
Or so I thought.
In November 2010, I got blasted out of my comfort zone by a job change. But what I thought was the worst thing ever turned out to be a king-sized blessing. I honestly believe it was the Good Lord telling me that I needed to get busy and start using ALL my talents. I was forced to look around and see my life for what it was. I noticed the piles of junk lying around the house that I had walked past for years. I noticed the strains in my relationships that needed to be fixed. I saw that I needed to be working hard to make change happen. My eyes are being opened wider even today.
That day in November was my “Danger – Comfort Zone” sign. It woke me up. It made me more aware. I’m now more aware that the most dangerous place to be is where I think it’s “safe.”
I’d still like to avoid driving the Ramsey minivan through Blasting Zone explosions set off by an errant cell phone call, though.
