Leaving My Comfort Zone - #bloganuary

 I have a confession to make: I don't like leaving my comfort zone. I used to be more 'adventurous' than I am now, I guess it's all to do with getting older. But as I got older I've suffered more from anxiety and if there's one thing you can be sure of with anxiety it's that it likes a comfort zone. I like to know where I am, what my surroundings are, what will happen. All things that are incompatible with being adventurous and leaving the old comfort zone.

I also recognise that this isn't always a healthy way to live but there it is. Given the choice, I'll say no, stay where I am and let others have all the adventures they can handle. But sometimes, I grab my courage by the hand and we step out, trembling a little but determined to have some new experiences. That's how it was the first time I went on a writing retreat.

Several years ago I was invited to go to a country house for a writing retreat. I knew a couple of the women through an online writing group but we'd never met in person. Before I knew what I was doing I'd said yes and paid. 

'No chance of backing out now but you will hate it.' Oh, that's the annoying voice in the back of my head. She'll pop up now and again, pouring cold water on everything.

And I didn't back out this time. I booked travel, packed my backpack and made arrangements. Onwards!

On the coach to London, everything was fine. I enjoyed the journey, dozed a bit and nearly found myself looking forward to a weekend away. Nearly...

As I crossed London the anxiety began to kick in again. 

'What are you doing? Strangers, you don't like meeting strangers. What if they don't like you? What if they laugh at your writing? Turn round, go back home.' Recognise her? Of course, the annoying little voice.

I caught the train to a town I'd never visited before. I met the wonderful woman who ran the retreat, was hugged and welcomed. I met other lovely women with fascinating stories to tell and we laughed and wrote and drank wine and it was all wonderful.

When I finally settled on the train back to London I felt warm, happy and fulfilled. I had met my tribe and it had been ok. And the annoying little voice had been quiet all weekend. My comfort zone had a new location: a country house with good food, good company and the chance to write and share. 

I've been back there many times and met new people on each visit. The journey sometimes fills me with anxiety - does anyone ever get used to the chaos that is London? - but I'm so glad I took that first tentative step outside my comfort zone. And it taught me not to listen to the annoying little voice all the time, even if she is very persistent.