The Discomfort Zone

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I am a comfort seeking creature. For example I would rather pretend to camp in my house instead of camping in a tent. I want my house warm to the point of almost sweating at all times of year. I like to eat copious amounts of cheese and chocolate (not at the same time, though I may have consumed a chocolate cheesecake to disprove that). I relish reading in silence and if given the choice between anything and sleep, I choose sleep… at least eight hours a night, and with the occasional nap please.

Yet since 2006, with the birth of my first child, followed by the birth of child number two, and then the financial collapse; my comfort zone has been challenged, if not obliterated.  Clinging to a comfort-filled past, tears spurting from my eyeballs, I have often wished to go back in time. Gradually, in fact many years later, I have accepted this is not possible. I learn slowly.

I’m calling 2015 the year of dissonance. This will be the year my brain screams, “No! Stop publishing your words on the internet! Someone might read them!” Then I’m going to do it anyway. Even more challenging to my NO impulse, I plan to publicize my blog. No amount of nausea, teeth grinding, and brain bullying is going to stop me. No sir. I will go forth into the unknown… into my own discomfort. Please join me. Write to me about all the uncomfortable brave things you plan to accomplish in 2015.

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