I watched my girls at gymnastics class last night. They were running, jumping, flipping, balancing, the works. I watched them fall, a lot. Man, it looked painful. They didn’t seem to much mind. OK, here’s where I wax philosophical — I watched them do, or rather try to do, really hard things. They kept failing, over and over, but they kept trying, smiles on their faces as they dove headlong into another spectacular fall. See where I’m going with this?
Why don’t I try really hard things anymore? Where inside of me did I remove to the “comfortable” place, never again to leave? Somehow failing now seems more painful. The idea of stretching myself to an uncomfortable place seems strangely out of place. Maybe the stakes are higher (well, yeah ok, there are lots of stakes that are higher than balancing gracefully on a four inch beam). But do you see my point? What a strange place to have a moment of self-reflection, sitting on the floor in a gymnasium.
How do you find the gumption to move out of your comfort zone? What have you tried? I want to be able to declare with confidence that “I will give away all my sins to know Thee (Alma 22:18)”. But would I really?
It’s just so. . .hard.
I need to go lie down.
The burden of bringing children and sometimes hubby along on one’s “falls” is often what makes me stay in my comfort zone. I hate thinking that my kids will inevitably face MY consequences (and vice-versa).
But, I know that I saw my parents fall on a number of occasions and what has continually stuck with me is HOW they got up.
Justine, this is a subject I have thought so much about lately. I never give myself an opportunity to push my limits and see where I go. I’ve been wanting to take Elder Bednar’s challenge from last October in asking my inactive neighbors about why they left the church. I’ve had so many opportunities to ask since I’d heard that talk, but I am so out of mental shape! Finally, the other day I got up the nerve and asked one neighbor and actually had a great conversation. I guess it’s baby steps with the “hard things.”
You are a runner. That qualifies as hard.
Good point Maralise. It is about how you get up after a fall.
But Justine, I can’t help but go back to the fact that you had this epiphany while you were sitting there watching your girls fall. In this world, just striving to have a successful marriage and raising a righteous family can be a hard thing in and of itself. I have watched people close to me fall and sometimes it takes all I’ve got just to be there to help them back up when needed. (As for comfort zones, I’ve found that especially as my kids get older–I’ve got two teens and a very hormonal pre-teen–every day I get further out of my comfort zone.)
So maybe this is a time and season to be the spotter.
I am a non-athlete… in college I thought I would try to take some sports-training classes, to see if I could get a little better with more direct instruction. I took tennis, skiing, jogging, aerobics, and ballroom dance. I was really terrible at all of them (aerobics was a bit better; iit wasn’t so obvious that I couldn’t follow a dance step as long as I kept bouncing). I even did poorly at jogging (my feet pronated more than anyone else in the class). The tennis teacher watched me try to bounce the ball with my racket for a minute and said, “You know, you need to just get that hand-eye coordination thing down a little better, don’t you?”
So… I was bad at them, but it was good for me. I felt stronger because I tried. I need to try more physical risks again. I haven’t for a while. It’s embarrassing to look dumb. And yet I tell my kids to keep trying.
I think that writing is very risky, though. Being edited feels like your daughters falling down and getting back up again. It’s the only way to make writing good, but it’s hard to do.
And like Courtney said, talking to people about hard things is risky too.
For many years I have given piano lessons on the side, usually to kids in the ward. There is always a point where the kid will say about something we are learning “It’s too hard.”
I always tell them two things: it may be hard, but not too hard for them; and that they can do hard things. I work with them on whatever it is, and they figure it out. Then next time we get to a lesson that is hard, I can remind them that they can do hard things, because they’ve done it before.
Sometimes I feel like I am the only person in their life that tells them that they can do hard things. Sure, it’s only a piano lesson, and sooner or later most of them quit or move away. But for the time I have them, they know they can do hard things if they just keep trying.
CS Eric, that is such a theme at our house! I feel like it’s kind of turned into our family motto, “You can do hard things.” But it’s sooo much easier to say to and demand from my kids than it is from myself.
And there is such a link between being able to do physically hard things and spiritually hard things — at least for me. When I am pushing myself physically, I find myself pushing myself spiritually more. I think that’s a big reason that I run. I have to keep convincing myself that I can do hard things, because then growing spiritually doesn’t seem so scary somehow.
Oh I am so much in agreement with that statement Justine.
I just found your blog and can SOOO relate to this post! I recently had a friend perform in a MAJOR competition and she spoke about how nervous and what a stretch it was for her to do it. But in the end, she grew so much. It made me start looking for ways to extend beyond my comfort zone and try, even if it is just a bit, on a daily basis. In the end, I’ll either learn a ton…or have an ulcer.
Heck, I feel like I need a spotter in this season! Becoming a mom (let alone a Mormon homeschool mom of five closely spaced children) was soooo far out of my comfort zone. Several years into it I finally would say that I can hold my own, but it still pushes me to the limit, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I don’t have as much left to give to other hard things as I once did. And maybe the biggest challenge for me is ackowledging that, because I tend to push myself too far, and then those five children are left with the overextended mess on the floor.
These comments are wonderful. Justine, I love this! I have been thinking about this very idea so much lately (although it wasn’t phrased half so well and sounded more like, “What is my problem?”). My hard things right now are embarrassingly basic. I am struggling to get myself to bed at a decent hour (I looooove quiet), eat well, and get some exercise so that I can deal with other hard things. Sometimes I try to break my challenges into baby steps and then plan rewards–incentive is big for me. Also, fasting and attending the temple give me added courage and strength.
I am finding that getting older is freeing me. I don’t really care much about what other people think of me–at least not nearly to the extent that I did when I was a teenager. I’m not all the way there yet, but I’m feeling it coming on; it’s that feeling that says: maybe I’ll just try snowskiing. Or the violin (which I quit at age 10). Or community drama. Or editing a magazine. When people see me, an obviously pathetically incompetent beginner on the ski slopes, I think they’ll say, “Look at that cool old lady trying to learn how to snowski” or “I heard she’s only taken violin lessons for one month. She so brave to volunteer to play ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’ for the ward talent show!” No one cares when someone who is old tries new stuff. They think it’s kind of neat that you are putting yourself out there on the line. I’ve got friends back in college, taking English 110 with 18-year-olds, and I’ve got friends training for their first marathons. I love it! I know this is my midlife crisis creeping up on me. I can’t wait. Who knows what wild things I just might try?
Not to say in this possible spotter stage of my life I won’t try hard things. I’m just more selective. (Tumbling out of a plane is not on my current to-do list.)
I agree with Emily M. about writing. Submitting your writing–even to the nicest people–is a huge risk. Because your writing is part of your soul. Like all hard things, however, it’s a learning experience.
I feel like I have no problem with the desire to do hard things…I want to become a court interpreter, I want to get a second degree in nursing on the side. And most of all, I WANT TO RUN ANOTHER MARATHON!!
As crazy as it sounds, I love the pain and discomfort of the training just as much as I do the race itself. Joy in the journey, baby.
However, my problem is that sometimes I want to do these hard things for the wrong reason. Sometimes I say, “I want to be more intellectually, or physically, or whatever..challenged.” But the real reason, that is oh so hard to admit, is, “It’s so hard being a mom sometimes that I’d love to do something easier, and mask it as something “hard,” because then everyone will understand me better.”
Justine, I don’t blame you for not wanting to somersault off the balance beam. I used to want to do that…but not anymore. I think we are all taking risks, and doing hard things, all the time. YOU, for example, recently scaled a 90 degree mountain cliff with Isaac strapped to your front. I would NEVER attempt that, unless heavily drugged.
You also climbed Y mount with all five kids in tow, and took pictures of you all smiling at the end. And now, you are taking care of everything for THREE WHOLE WEEKS while Don is out doing the island dances in Fiji, and, we hope, getting a tan.
Kristin, I want to just be able to run another 10K! You’re awesome!
I see this in my own daughter. While I watch her attempts at [very beginner] tumbling, I sometimes giggle out loud as the other moms stare at me. It’s not that her failed tries are funny– it’s that I’m excited by her gumption. To try the handstand, to try the cartwheel, and to try it with such ebullience is inspiring to me. So often I have to remind myself to be brave, to put on the brave face when things seem to be caving in around me, to smile when I don’t want to. I think we’ve just traded the falling on the bum to the falling flat out on our faces emotionally. Or at least I have.
Just to shake things up, literally, I once picked up the college catalog and picked the one thing I couldn’t imagine myself doing and enrolled….I SO enjoyed bellydancing, found my inner harem girl!