We've all heard it before: "Just get out of your comfort zone."
But if there's one thing that a global pandemic and rather turbulent times teach us, it's that getting out of our comfort zone might not necessarily be what we need. Right? Because when something terrible is seemingly thrown at us every week, I tend to be reminded that any semblance of comfort is something to be cherished deeply—not a space to escape from.
Yes, I do understand that the phrase, "Just get out of your comfort zone," might simply be a pithy blanket statement that could lead to new opportunities and exciting memories for all who try it. And that there even are personality types that favor the oblivious launching out of one's comfort zone. Well, if you're one of those people, I applaud your courageous wiring. Now you can stop reading this entry. I'll see you at the next one!
However, if you're like me—someone who's tried to venture out into the areas far beyond the boundaries of your comfort zone and immediately ran back—then this, my friend, is for you. For us.
Ultimately, "just get out of your comfort zone" is nothing more than a memorable fortune-cookie slogan or a bad tattoo when not implemented efficiently or practiced realistically. Because if we don't know how to get out of our comfort zone without a shock to our system that warns us not to try that again, what's the point?
In today's productivity-obsessed culture, where icky words like "grindset" are thrown around, I often hear the argument that a significant part of the idea of escaping the comfort zone is kind of supposed to combat the over-thinking, analysis type. That, in fact, is the point. There's not necessarily a reasonable and practical approach to doing it. You, like, just got to do it, bro.
Because, at the core of it, it's supposed to be a sprint into the unknown, a plunge into the deep end. It's the run-and-gun method of going out into that great beyond and moving with the flow of it, come what may, right? Well, on some of my rare, more extroverted days, I'd somewhat agree with that thinking—but not only is that, again, extremely rare, but paired with the times we're living in now, it's hard to stand firm in that perspective. I'm trying to consider all angles of the comfort zone, as I hope you try to do, too.
When mental health issues like anxiety affect so many of us, why get out of one's comfort zone if it'll just lead to, well, discomfort? There are already plenty of reasons why there are instances of anxiety and panic in the world. We do not need any additional reasons—especially from things that we can control.
The blurry objective, then, is to find ways of going out of our comfort zone without the prompting of panic.
As we explore, I must say that I don't think we need to entirely throw out the often-used phrase. There is some truth to it. Because, more often than not, growth does actually occur outside of the comfort zone. That's why the evergreen concept remains popular, circulating across a plethora of self-help books and podcasts, Pinterest boards, and even newsletter entries like this. We just need to reframe the saying a bit, give it a new spin.
“
You never change your life until you step out of your comfort zone; change begins at the end of your comfort zone.
—Roy T. Bennett
So, how do we both grow by stepping out of our comfort zone without totally freaking out at the same time?
The "Stretch Zone" 🌤️
I worked at a sports camp for three summers during college. It was there, under the scorching heat of a Texas summer sun, that I first learned of a way of exiting my comfort zone at a healthy pace.
The funny thing was that it wasn't even my comfort zone that was at risk. It was that of the boys in my cabin whose were, as they were getting safety instructions near the ropes course.
The instructor—a guy whose face I can see but name I can't remember—was trying to encourage the boys to try as many of the obstacles as possible. A "get the most out of it" kind of thing. As I looked around, some of the campers were impatient to get started; many were trembling.
"No matter how high it is, I promise it is safe and you can do it," the instructor said, squinting at the nervous ones under his cap.
He then continued, explaining that the ropes were strong enough to hold the weight of small planes, how the boys should stand and hold their hands up to spot each other as another camper climbed, and why every leap would become a memory that lasts a lifetime. You know, the usual spiel.
Then came the profound bit as he started talking about the comfort zone.
He kneeled down, grabbed a piece of chalk, and started drawing a simple diagram on an old, tattered chalkboard that rested on his knees like a football coach. The campers huddled around. So did I.
"This, right here, is your comfort zone. This is where you are right now. It's where you are for most of your life."
Like muscle memory, he grabbed a different piece of chalk; he'd done this hundreds of times by now. "And this red area over here is the panic zone. You end up here when you do something that you're really afraid to do, maybe rushing into it. So, if you look up and one of the obstacles puts you in the panic zone, tell your coaches, and you won't have to do it."
Then, with his last piece of chalk, he drew a section in the middle, a little golden sliver. "This little section right here, that's the sweet spot. It's called the stretch zone. This is where you step just outside of your comfort zone to try something new. This is the area where you discover a little bit more about yourself. It's where the magic happens."
He put the board down and wiped chalk dust from his shorts as he stood up. "So, if you see an obstacle that looks a little intimidating, but you're curious, I encourage you to try it still. Just take a moment to see what zone you're in. Talk to one of your coaches if you have to. Believe me, you won't regret trying."
He clapped, as if to break up the huddle. "Alright, let's go get harnessed up," he said.
Then he started walking as if he didn't just introduce me to a really profound idea with some silly pieces of colored chalk. (One Google search later would provide more literature on the concept; it wasn't original, but, at the time, it was a new idea to me.) It was all a simple way to get the campers to participate, sure, but I've never forgotten that Matthew McConaughey-esque speech.
Later that night, as us coaches were on the cabin porches after the boys went to bed, illuminated by the light above, I drew that little diagram in my journal.
Putting It Into Practice 👏
Now every time I'm faced with a challenge that truly beckons me from beyond my comfort zone, I breathe and take that crucial moment to examine. I sometimes even remember that day at camp, the sketch in my journal, and past experiences when stepping into the stretch zone worked for me.
Whether it's public speaking or confronting something at work, taking that moment helps me gauge which zone I'm in. To be honest, nowadays, it's very rarely the act of visualizing the diagram or that hot day at camp. It's usually through my taking moments every day to journal and meditate. In the morning, it's to prepare for the day and the tasks ahead. In the evening, it's to reflect on how I felt and did. It's a daily practice that helps me gain composure and see where my zone boundaries are at that particular time.
Lately, there have been a few instances when I've chosen to wander into the stretch zone, and I've been grateful to have done so. Like starting a book club at my apartment complex, unsure whether anyone would show up or care what I had to say about the stories I surround myself with. Or going to a dating mixer after a long period of being too self-conscious to pursue anything meaningful. Even the act of writing these Cristian's Commonplace entries, putting little bits of myself into the words I craft, is a way for me to continue to practice in public, be more vulnerable, and pursue the creative life I've always wanted.
I'm discovering that it's all about finding the balance of sitting in my comfort zone, dancing in my stretch zone, and briefly trembling in my panic zone.
The key, again, is to not forget those moments for retrospection. To feel for our soul's pulse, in a way. Whether it be by writing, speaking with a therapist, or chopping it up with friends and community, those moments are especially crucial. By pausing and reflecting, adjusting and pivoting, we learn who we were, where we are, and discover the potential of all that we're becoming.
And then we can all the more easily recognize our next opportunity to dance with abandon in the stretch zone.
This piece was originally published on Medium in 2021. It has been revised and updated for this Cristian’s Commonplace entry.
