In any good story, there comes a moment when the main character must leave her comfort zone.
As she stands on the threshold, the dark forest looming beyond, she looks back at what she is leaving.
There is reluctance. Apprehension. But also, the beginning of excitement.
It’s difficult to step beyond the comfort of the familiar. But it can be liberating.
Exploring new territory and unfamiliar experiences allows us to think about things in a new way.
When we accept the invitation to step into unknown lands, we step into new ways of being.
I was born and bred in Johannesburg. In 2009, my partner of one year suggested that we move to Cape Town.
He’d always wanted to live between mountain and sea. Practically, this was possible, as we both worked remotely.
But emotionally, it was terrifying for me.
Four years before, I’d emerged from a long-term relationship that had been controlling and abusive. The thought of being alone in a new city, far from my familiar home ground, my support system, my network of friends and colleagues, terrified me.
But my trust in myself and this burgeoning relationship gave me newfound strength.
A few years before, on a business trip to Cape Town, I had walked along Sea Point Promenade, taking in the salty air and revelling in the call of the seagulls.
I phoned my mum and told her I loved it here, and that one day I’d move to this beautiful city.
Now, seven years later, this invitation had come into my life. I said yes.
Yes to stepping over the threshold, away from familiar things and into the unknown.
It was a cautious yes. I told my partner, Joel, that I’d try it for six months.
He drove down before me to collect the keys to our rental and set up our new home.
He sent me reassuring daily texts with photos of the mountain from our bedroom window. “Our local coffee shop is exactly 87 steps away from our front door. De Waal Park is just around the corner…”
He was there to meet me at the airport, with a huge bunch of flowers.
I stepped into his arms, let his soapy male scent breathe comfort through my body, and felt his warmth settle my waters.
Fifteen years later, stepping out of my Jozi comfort zone is one of the best decisions I’ve made.
This is not to say I didn’t have wobblies, tearful phone calls with dear friends I’d left behind, scared moments when my business went quiet and my income stopped and stuttered. I did.
But the excitement of exploring a new city meant that I stepped out of our front door with curiosity every morning.
When I returned home, I was soothed by the comfort of the cocoon we were creating together, the home-cooked meals, the tea in bed every morning, the cosy nights by the fire.
I learnt that when we extend our stride and step into the discomfort of the unknown, we need equal doses of comfort.
We need moments when we can sit in a patch of sunlight that stretches like a lazy cat on the bed, eat nourishing meals, enjoy little treats and lots of warm hugs.
Because stepping out of our comfort zones requires equal doses of comfort to fortify us.
Leave a Reply