Journeys out of my Comfort Zone

To begin this post, there's something I need to tell you about myself.

I'm shy.

You might not gather that from what you read here. You may not even gather that from what you have seen in person. Or maybe it's obvious. I dunno...
  

I also have angry resting face, which is quite unfortunate. Shyness and angry resting face are a toxic combination. I've often been perceived as stuck up and mean. If I had a dollar for every time someone said to me, "I used to think you were so stuck up..."

Don't get me wrong, I've had plenty of moments where I have behaved in a stuck up manner. But mostly, I'm just scared. Scared to approach people, scared to talk to people, scared to initiate conversations. 

In high school, a dance choreographer once called me "timid."

It really hurt my feelings because I had tried very hard to be something different for her - to be a brave dancer and put myself out there and dance vulnerably. And she saw right through me.

She was spot-on, though. I was timid.

Still am.

My shy and timid nature is part of the complicated package of an anxiety disorder I've never quite been able to kick. I can mask it a little, and I've learned several coping mechanisms, but it's always there. I am a very scared person - particularly with anything new or unfamiliar. I am very, very dependent on my comfort zone, and my comfort zone is a very small place (that is why "own a passport" is on my non-bucket list. My comfort zone doesn't branch out anywhere that requires a passport). 

About four years ago, I began to feel prompted to make a change in my life. I was very nervous because I didn't know what, specifically, needed to change, but I felt a strong push toward... something. For months I found myself frequently in tears because I knew that, whatever it was, it would be really uncomfortable for me. Scotty and I started considering some big life changes. Were we supposed to move? Have another baby much sooner than planned? Start a company? 

We talked about things and came to no conclusion. We talked about moving out of state, and the very thought of it nearly made me hurl, but we considered it seriously, if only for a moment, and decided that that wasn't what we needed. We did try the baby thing, which would have given us an 18-month gap. It didn't happen at that time, but two years later we got Zoe.

Eventually, the overwhelming feeling went away.

But then it came back. 

It hit me again a year or so later - an absolute demand for me to leave my comfort zone. And again, I had no idea what I was supposed to do, but I cried when the familiar feeling returned because I knew I needed to do something scary.

Again, I never figured out what it was.

And now, for the past year, I've once again been feeling that familiar push to leave my comfort zone, but I don't know where I'm supposed to go. It feels like it's supposed to be somewhere big, but since it still plagues me as a mystery, I've taken a new approach. I have to do something. So in baby steps, I've been pushing myself out of my comfort zone.

I'm not kidding when I say baby steps. I'm talking... going to the grocery store at a time of day I normally wouldn't go, starting a conversation with the stranger sitting next to me, accepting an invitation to somewhere unfamiliar with people I hardly know, or even trying a piece of gym equipment I haven't used before.

The biggest thing I've done in the past year outside of my comfort zone was when I participated in Ragnar last fall. This required me not only to run (something out of my comfort zone at the time) but to pick up two strangers in a Walmart parking lot and drive them across the state line (whoa, Nelly!)

That would be such a small thing for so many other people, but for me it was HUGE. So when I start to think that I can't do something because it's too scary, I remind myself that I once did something completely unfamiliar, and IT WAS FINE!

So for now, I'm doing small things. Taking baby steps out of my comfort zone and sometimes retreating right back in. But at least I'm sticking a toe out here or there. Maybe eventually I can get a whole limb out. One thing at a time... until finally, I discover what the Big Thing is. 

The Non-Bucket List

Lately, I've been seeing a lot of bucket lists online. Looking at lists of what people hope to accomplish by the end of summer or by age thirty or the like has gotten me thinking about things that would not be on my bucket list... if I had a bucket list.

I'm a firm believer in "never say never," so this list includes things that:
A) I really can't see myself doing,
B) are not a priority to me, or
C) I flat-out don't want to do
But it is not a "never" list. A few of these things may end up crossed off over the rest of my life. It will be interesting to see what my future brings. After all, I was never going to be a runner, and I was never going to "not find out" the gender of my babies.

Britt's Non-Bucket List:*

Play on a sports team
Own a passport
Have a pixie cut by choice
Go sky diving
Gamble in a casino
Meet a celebrity
Build a home
Do a triathalon
Take a science class
Paint on canvas
Read Pride and Prejudice
Serve as a pianist in the Church
Have cosmetic surgery
Get a spray-on tan
Get drunk
Bungee jump
Move out-of-state
Audition for something
Have fake nails
Do a back flip on a trampoline
Own a convertible
Get a dog
Run for office
Perform a solo

Would any of these things be on your non-bucket list? Or even more interesting, are any of them on your bucket list?


*This list is not intended to insult anyone who does these things. Yeah, I never want to have a pixie cut. It's because I don't think it would look good with my face - it has nothing to do with anyone else's desire to have a pixie cut.

(And I totally want a spray on tan, I just can't bring myself to pay for one or take of my clothes for a stranger to spray paint me).

Seven Days

This morning I saw a writing prompt asking, "If you had seven days without seeing a soul, what would you do?"

It's rare that a writing prompt actually prompts me (you have to admit, there are some really bizarre writing prompts out there), but as a mother of three who is always on the edge of Crazy Town, seven days without seeing a soul is the kind of stuff I daydream about.

I'd be lonely, of course. But it would be good for me.

I'm not sure about the location of this fantasy, but if I get to choose, it would be somewhere warm enough to sunbathe once and cool enough to spend the rest of the time in stretchy pants and a hoodie.

(It's my fantasy. I get to control the climate).

So, the sun-bathing? That would be done naked.

I'm alone. I deserve to be sun-kissed in the nude.

I would spend a lot of time singing... channeling my inner Pink. I'd also whip out all of my old high school dance moves - stuff I haven't tried in years - just to see what it's like to dance like a 16 year old in a 30 year old body.

I would take lots of hot showers. Long ones.

I'd listen to all of the songs that I'm embarrassed to like - nice and loud! No holding back!

I'd watch all six seasons of Lost, and I'd talk to the characters like I'm one of them. That's 86.9 hours of TV, so I'd have to multi-task. So Lost in the shower. Lost while I sunbathe naked. Lost while I hang out in my stretchy pants and sweatshirt in a super comfy bed. Lost while I sing "Family Portrait" and do triple pirouettes.

I'd sleep whenever I want for how long I want.

I'd use the bathroom with the door open.

(Slight chance I do that anyway).

I'd read a book or two and write a few blog posts.

I'd engage in some gospel study. Really, I would. Time alone studying the gospel is rare and beautiful. I would make that happen. (Okay, so Lost and gospel study don't exactly go hand-in-hand, but this is my fantasy, so I'm going to make it work).

I'd do some real soul-searching, goal-setting, and journal writing.

I'd feel guilty for watching so much Lost, but I'd do it anyway.

Maybe I'd go for a run, but I can't make any promises.

I'd probably cry a little since being alone tends to bring out some strange, suppressed emotions.

What would you do?

Wherein I Hurt

Last weekend while we were off on an adventure, we stopped at a park to play and eat lunch.

I decided to work with my kids on a life skill: hanging upside down.

This, of course, required some demonstration. The demonstration wasn't pretty.

   

Getting my legs over the bar is a lot harder at age 30 than it was at age 10. (It doesn't help that I weigh 100 lbs more than I did 20 years ago). But I did it! And then I started feeling confident, even though the backs of my knees were sure to give out any second.

   

So I tucked in my shirt and started swinging - which hurt really bad, but, overall, things were going well, so I decided to attempt a cherry drop.

 

By dumb luck, I landed on my feet.

I mean, barely. 

But at least I didn't fall on my head.

I ended up attempting this feat three more times. Each time was equally hideous, but I was really excited that I could still (kind of) do a cherry drop.

The next morning when I woke up, I felt like I'd been beaten with a bat.

My back.

My knees.

Even my ankle! (Which I had repeatedly hit on the bar whilst attempting to get my long, heavy legs up there).

Now, a week later, I am still recovering. 

I'm feeling a little... umm... not young.

Adventures

Scotty didn't have to work last Friday, so we decided to keep Nicky out of school for the day and go on an adventure.

We drove about two hours to Maple Canyon to hike.

There is a cobbled slot canyon there that we thought our kids would love.

There were lots of little places for the wee ones to climb to their hearts' content.

There were also many boulders that had fallen from the canyon walls and lodged in the path - proving that we could, in fact, die at any second.

This did not sit well with the part of me that is super paranoid of EVERYTHING.

(I am not going to let that part of me write this post).

(But seriously! IMMINENT DEATH!!!)

We didn't get very far into the canyon before things got interesting. The path was blocked by boulders that we had to climb over or under. Then we hit this:

Which gave me the chance to test out my upper body strength (I couldn't have done that a year ago without Scotty hoisting me up by my tuchus).

At that point we decided not to continue on with the kids (immediately after the rope climb, there was another pile of caved-in rock to climb, and the path seemed to go on in that manner from there).

We all made it back out of the canyon alive and unsmashed. 

(Daisy, in true Daisy fashion, lost her hiking shoes and had to wear Barbie shoes).

We stopped by a fish hatchery on our way out of town.

Because I love swarming masses of fish.

So much.

My kids were in heaven, though. They thought that place was so cool. The employees let my kids feed the fish, and it created quite a frenzy. I thought a fish might jump into my lap for want of food.

Yeesh!

We picnicked at a park and spent a couple hours playing and chasing seagulls. Then we went to Little Sahara to play in the sand dunes for a while. It was pretty windy, so we didn't stay long, but our undies were full of sand regardless.

We drove through a couple of old towns and then headed home. 

Our kids were pretty awesome during our adventure, and they've been asking when we get to go on another one. Little do they realize that everyday is an adventure at our house, whether I want it to be or not!

The Forthcoming Photos of Fish May Frighten You! {and ten other random facts}

Fact #1: Koi give me the heebie jeebies.

Just look at them swarming each other - their fishy flesh rubbing up against their neighbors'. It's absolutely horrid!

{{Shudder}}

 

And their mouths! Oh, those disgusting, circular mouths!! They are the things nightmares are made of.

 

Fact #2: Strangely, I was the only individual (out of hundreds) standing over this koi pond yelling like a crazy person. Sometimes I take my turn being the embarrassment of the family.

Fact #3: Goats on the other hand are like puppies to me. I want to hold them and nuzzle them (okay, maybe not nuzzle) and dress them in little goat t-shirts.

Just look at that cute face!

He's basking in the sun! He basks! 

I've never seen a koi fish do that.

Fact #4:  It's not just koi, though. I think I have an aversion to aquatic animals in general. One time I went swimming with stingrays in Grand Cayman, and I was hysterical! If any of them came near me (or, gasp! Brushed against my legs) I began running, leaping, and hollering as if my life would surely end in that moment.

You know how sometimes there is a really annoying woman at a theme park or movie who loudly vocalizes her fear and ruins the experience for everyone?

Yeah. That was me.

Fact #5: Last week Scotty and I celebrated 11 years of marriage.

I'm a lucky girl.

Fact #6: Also last week, Nicky's nose bled all over his math homework. We decided not to turn it in.

Fact #7: We made that decision because a) he's in first grade - the penalty for not turning in math homework can't be that high - and b) one time Nicky's nose bled on the preschool sign-in sheet, and the teachers reacted like it was a 2319.

Fact #8: I really wish that Fox and Disney would collaborate so that the new Avengers movie can acknowledge that the twins are Magneto's children.

Fact #9: Whoa. I just had a nerd moment. Sorry, readers. 

Fact #10: I can't believe it's already the end of another school year. How does this happen?!?

Three Books: WWII

In my reading lately, WWII has been a recurring subject. I've never been much a fan of history - this is one of my character flaws, as I know there is a lot that can be learned from history, and it seems that a well-rounded person would have a decent knowledge of the world's past. My one redeeming interest is that I am fascinated - and maybe a little obsessed - with human behavior, so if you take the politics and the details of the battles out and focus on the conduct of the people - what they believed, how they were influenced by their surroundings, and how those things affected their actions, I'm suddenly ready to study and learn.

I often ponder how I would have fared in the heart of WWII - not that I would wish it upon myself - but I wonder whether I would have been heroic or cowardly. How would I have behaved if I had grown up in Nazi Germany? Would I, with blond hair and blue eyes, have been blinded and deceived by Hitler? Or would I have been able to recognize him for the devil that he was? And if I did know of the wrongness of his rule would I have done anything about it, or would I have silently disagreed and bided my time to save my own life?

I also wonder what my fight for life would have been like in a concentration camp. How would fear, starvation, illness, and abuse affect me? I can't even begin to imagine what it was like.

While curious, I am so thankful to not really know. Nothing I have experienced in my life can answer those questions. Nothing even comes close in comparison.

Thank Heaven.

This is where my thoughts always turn when I read anything that takes place in that era. Here is a rundown of the three most recent books I have read taking place in WWII:

Rose Under Fire is a young adult book written by Elizabeth Wein. It is a sequel (though, more of a companion, really) to Code Name Verity. The story is about Rose Justice, an ATA pilot who is captured by Nazis and thrown into Ravensbruck concentration camp. Rose uses poetry as motivation to survive and helps others to continue their fight to survive through words. She befriends a group of women known as "the rabbits," as they have been brutally experimented on by the Nazis. She promises to spread the truth about the rabbits if she survives the camp and commits to memorizing their names - living and dead - to seek justice.

Rose is a friend and fellow pilot of Maddie from Code Name Verity. While Maddie plays a role in Rose Under Fire, she takes a backseat in the story, so you can read Rose Under Fire without having read Code Name Verity...if you want. There are small references to things that happened in Code Name Verity, but since the things that happened in that book are confidential, Maddie can't really talk specifics with Rose.

Rose Under Fire shows the power that words have on the human spirit and the importance of identity. It is not a fluffy or light read, and it contains some brief instances of strong profanity (which is the sugar-coated way of saying it has the 'F' word).

I rated this book 4 stars on Goodreads.

The Plum Tree book by Ellen Marie Wiseman is a slowly-unfolding story beginning with Christine at age 17 when she falls in love with Isaac, a wealthy Jewish boy. As the war deepens, Christine is no longer allowed to see Isaac, and eventually, Isaac and his family are taken from their home.

Over the years, the war brings continuous devastation and horror to Christine's life, but her love for Isaac remains strongly rooted.

I was particularly interested by the way this book handled revenge. There are some similarities between Christine's experience and Rose's experience in Rose Under Fire, but the characters handled things differently.

If your WWII fiction needs a love story, this is your book!

I gave The Plum Tree 4 stars on Goodreads.

Between Shades of Gray by Ruta Sepetys takes us away from Nazi Germany and introduces Lina, a Lithuanian teenager whose family is captured and sent to a labor camp in Siberia during WWII. Lina, her mother, and her brother do everything they can to stay together and help those around them stay alive. I particularly love Lina's mother, Elena, who is strong and determined and takes the lead in trying circumstances.

As Rose found solace in poetry, Lina amplifies her will to live through art.

There may also be a love story in there somewhere (but don't confuse this book with any other "Shades of Grey).

I'm just sayin'.

I gave Between Shades of Gray 4 stars on Goodreads.