As I sit in front of my computer, wondering what to write this month, I’m savoring my recent experience of having moved Beyond my Comfort Zone. Possibilities ahead of me are spacious and at the same time, I feel uncertain. The “seeker” part of me has expanded, even if it is not visible to others, and she’s curious about what might be next.
Even though Beyond the Comfort Zone is a destination we are often prodded to discover, it’s not always easy to follow through to get there. Probably the biggest “out of comfort zone” commitment I’ve made in the past few weeks is deciding to work 1-1 with a writing mentor.
As I prepare to send her my writing for this month, I can feel all the anxiety, crappy stories, and self-doubt coming up. I’m using this experience to connect with the writers who choose to work with me, so I have an even greater understanding of what it takes for anyone to say “yes” to one of my writing programs.
Moving Beyond Doubt
My hope is that sharing what I’m learning will help you spend less time in the grip of self-doubt and worrying, and inspire more conviction to say “Yes!” to what awaits you on the other side.
I now invite you to take a step back into late August, when I decided to go on a week-long sea kayaking adventure with a reputable company. Before I went on the trip, I almost dropped out of this expedition. I had so many worst-case scenarios running through my mind, and each one of them seemed entirely possible. Big storms. Huge waves. Terrible group dynamics.
On top of those catastrophic thoughts, I had a bunch of self-doubt about my age and my physical capacity, thinking I was over-committing myself. A strong inner voice was telling me I should drop out to avoid being a liability to the group.
On The Other Side
I’m happy to report that none of those awfulizing scenarios came true, that I was a capable and competent person within our group, and I LOVED the expedition. I could have missed out on a very affirming experience had I listened to the critical voices going on inside my head.
Now I feel the same kind of thinking coming up as I prepare to send my first sample of rough draft writing to my new mentor. However, my kayaking trip experience is recent enough that I recognize the patterns. It’s not just the mind chatter; there’s also body sensations that go along with the voices that want to keep me small.
Recognition helps me stop responding as if those mind-stories are true. Instead, I focus on knowing that something worthwhile is waiting on the other side of this fear. When the fear grips strongly, I’m learning to reach out to trusted others, to remind me why I’m making this choice.
An Outside Perspective
One friend reminds me about the power of my writing. I recall what led me to making this choice: I’m working with a mentor because I need help to develop my emerging manuscript. I am choosing to be vulnerable so that I can expand my writing craft. At this time in our contract, my mentor is not demanding perfection. Yet, I feel compelled to “create perfect writing”, in the same way I feel compelled to clean the house before the house cleaner comes.
The whole point of signing up with a mentor is to share my messy first draft writing and receive guidance on structure and what topics/ themes can be expanded. My mentor knows what I share with her is not going to be perfect, so why am I creating this standard of perfection?
In my opinion, this is the monkey mind.
The Monkey Mind
I have learned that when the monkey mind (inner critic, inner saboteur, editor) is kicking up a fuss, it most often suggests that on the threshold of creating something important, you’re on the right path. No matter how many times I’ve stepped beyond comfort, my mind still manages to kick up the biggest fuss possible before the crossing. Every. Darn. Time! In fact, the mind just gets sneakier and more convincing as I age, so I’ve learned to rely on recognizing thought patterns and physical sensations before falling for the voices calling me back to safety and staying small.
What I’m observing also connects me to YOU, my clients, and all the ways the monkey mind chatter might get in the way of following through on your next steps in your writing. This experience is a reminder about the inner game of writing, which requires compassionate care and attention, as much as the words on the page require the same.
Saying Yes to Getting Help
One of my early mentors used to say, “Be the client you want to attract”. So here I am, saying Yes to growing my very rough manuscript. Saying Yes to asking for help to develop a structure for my emerging words.
Saying Yes to make a greater commitment to my desire to publish another book, in whatever form that might take. It’s another giant step into the unknown, leading me Beyond my Comfort Zone. Will you join me there?
