Out of the comfort zone
We get into deeply seated patterns of thinking and acting, and at some point we lose sight of other possibilities and opportunities.
For years, I've had to calmly explain to people why I'll never go back to school. I have plenty of work to do at my job, for example. I can learn all kinds of things without having somebody else assign me homework. I like to set my own reading lists.
Marnette Denell
I'm actually a big believer in continuing education. Uh huh, I hear you say. Sure. But I really do go to conferences. I go to day-long seminars. I read books. I listen to educational tapes.
Maybe I'm commitment phobic, and that's why I make excuses. A whole semester of something is a frightening prospect for me. And, I have to reluctantly admit, I have "first day of class" fear. That whole roomful of people I don't know is enough to make me run the other direction.
All this to say, with the exception of some intermittent yoga classes, I haven't bought supplies and gone to class in, well, more than a decade. Until this month.
Now, I did manage to keep the commitment low: eight weeks, once a week, two and a half hours per class. No grade; that helps. It's a drawing class, though, so I have inferiority issues. The last art class I took was in junior high school, and I think I flunked at least one semester.
I have to say, signing up for this class felt like a huge step. I had to admit I really did want to learn to draw better. That was a hurdle. I navigated the fine arts aisle at the hobby store to buy the stuff on my supplies list. (I used to love back-to-school shopping. There's hardly anything more inspiring than a clean, empty notebook.) I have to find my way around a new campus. I have to leave work at a set time once a week—and miss my daughter's bedtime that day. All in all, paying the enrollment fee was the least painful part.
Now that I'm halfway through the class, I think it was a good choice. My drawings are getting better. It's a portraits class, and my drawings of heads look more like heads. But more important, it's been a long time since I did something uncomfortable—or at least, uncomfortable in these ways. I tried something new—and something I'm not that good at.
The experience is giving me something new to think about. That's fun. I've met new people. And I think I'll have more sympathy for people who are learning new things. Mostly, though, it's exciting to do something new ... once I get past the pain.
Dr. Ernie Ward talks about breaking old patterns in his article "Get Out of Your Unhealthy Rut" on page 54. And almost all of us can use a reminder about investing in our health. But the ruts we fall into aren't just related to food and fitness.
We get into deeply seated patterns of thinking and acting. And at some point we lose sight of other possibilities and opportunities. Doing something new now and then—maybe anything new—can give us a fresh view of the horizon.
Marnette Denell Falley, Editor
