Showing posts with label comfort zone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comfort zone. Show all posts

Monday, March 7, 2022

Escaping the Confines of One’s Comfort Zone

“He’s (or she’s) in the zone.” Have you heard that before? Maybe you’ve even said it about yourself, that you’re totally focused on a particular project or task. “In the zone,” I’ve found, often is a good place to be. But there are many other kinds of zones – time zones, residential and commercial zones, no-fly zones, relationship zones. Even something we call “comfort zones.”

 

Most of us like our comfort zones. They’re familiar, predictable, safe. We can establish secure, clearly defined boundaries, manage expectations, and generally reap expected results. The risks of failure and disappointments can be kept at a minimum. So, what’s not to like about comfort zones?

 

For one thing, they can become tedious, even boring. They might cause us to settle for things easily within our reach. The routine of making the same widgets day after day might seem risk-free, but life and work should amount to more than making widgets. 

 

Another drawback of comfort zones is they might prevent us from experiencing – and enjoying – the unknown and untried. We might have no idea what we’re missing unless we attempt to discover what it could be. You can’t learn to swim unless you’re willing to jump into the pool.

 

But perhaps the greatest criticism of a life confined to a comfort zone is succinctly expressed by speaker, author and leadership coach, Tim Kight: “Nothing great ever happened in the comfort zone.” 
 

What if people like Thomas Edison and others had remained comfortable with gas lights, or even torches? Those provided illumination, but not the convenience, efficiency or safety of incandescent lights and lighting innovations that have followed. Brothers Orville and Wilbur Wright refused to be discouraged by naysayers who insisted, “Man will never fly”? If not for them, we might still be trying to cross country in trains – or even wagon trains.

 

We commonly think of peanuts as snacks removed from a shell, can or jar, or peanut butter (smooth or crunchy, your choice). But in the early 1900s, George Washington Carver, born into slavery, wanted nothing to do with any kind of comfort zone. Instead, he applied his genius to developing hundreds of products using peanuts, as well as sweet potatoes and soybeans. He also was a stalwart advocate of crop rotation and agricultural education. 

 

Being averse to comfort zones isn’t limited to those who answered the adage, “Necessity is the mother of invention.” Explorer Christopher Columbus gave vivid picture of the pitfalls that can result from remaining nestled in one’s comfort zone. He famously said, “You can never cross the ocean unless you have the courage to lose sight of the shore.”

 

Long before that, however, people were learning the pros and cons of comfort-zone life. The Bible gives dozens of examples. There was Abram (later called Abraham), called by God to leave the friendly confines of Haran. The Lord instructed him, “Leave your country, your people and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you. I will make you into a great nation and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing…all the peoples on earth will be blessed through you” (Genesis 12:1-2).

 

That must have sounded like a wonderful promise, but God hadn’t told Abram where He was sending him, how long it would take to get there, or how this “great nation” would come about. Abram trusted the Lord, left the Haran comfort zone, and hit the road with his wife, Sarai, nephew Lot, their servants and possessions. Joseph, Daniel, Jesus’ disciples, even the apostle Paul responded in similar ways.

 

Among the strangest examples were the Israelites, freed after four centuries of bondage in Egypt. We might think people escaping inconceivably oppressive slavery would never look back, for even a second, but for them that wasn’t the case.

 

Wandering around the desert weeks after waving good-bye to captivity, the Israelites began to grumble to their leader, Moses: “If only we had died by the Lord’s hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the food we wanted, but you brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death” (Exodus 16:3). Even after God miraculously provided them with manna, quail, and water from a rock, they continued to favor hindsight over foresight, becoming shortsighted.

 

What does it take to step boldly out of one’s comfort zone to face the challenges of an uncertain but promising future? In a word, courage. 


Following the death of Moses, God selected Joshua to lead the Israelites into the Promised Land. Recognizing the daunting task of guiding a rebellious people, the Lord gave Joshua these instructions:

”Be strong and courageous, because you will lead these people to inherit the land I swore to their forefathers to give them. Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go…. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:6-9).

What great things might God have in store for you, if only you’re willing to step outside your own comfort zone? Like Joshua, be strong and courageous! 

Monday, December 10, 2012

Learning to Look for ‘Invisible People’


Strolling through the local mall the other day, I realized we’re surrounded by what we could call “invisible people.”

Not people that are literally invisible. (Although that does remind me of the story about the Invisible Man, who on his wedding day made his bride mad because he didn’t show up.) No, I’m referring to people we pass by regularly, without giving them a moment’s consideration.

As I passed a security guard, I heard him engaged in conversation with a woman at one of the Christmas charity booths. I’d seen this fellow before, but hadn’t thought of him in a real-person sort of way. He’s not a snappy dresser, and doesn’t carry himself in a way that would command attention, so although I’d noticed him, I hadn’t really looked at him or wondered, “I wonder who he is? I wonder what his life is like? What are his hopes and dreams?”

I overheard him say something about God, but didn’t want to eavesdrop. It simply struck me that this fellow I’d never met had some opinion of the divine – even though I hadn’t heard enough to know where on the theological spectrum his views would fall.

This got me thinking about other “invisible people” there – custodial staff; people working at gaudy kiosks; the little old man sitting at the bench in the corner, looking like he had nothing to do and nowhere to go; weary kids wanting Mom or Dad to take them home.

Frankly, it’s easy for me to ignore people like this. Even though I’ve sometimes been described as “relational,” I’m really not an outgoing, “people person.” I’ve never been accused of being the life of the party – at such gatherings, unless I connect with someone, I’m inclined to become “invisible” myself. Reaching out to others takes effort for me.

But that’s still no excuse for looking past people whose lives are just as important as our own.

Recently a friend recounted being approached in the parking lot at another mall by a man of a different ethnic background. In broken English the man asked where a particular department store was located. Suspecting this might be a prelude to ask for a handout, my friend was reluctant to engage in conversation. When the man stated his car had broken down, my friend felt sure a plea for cash was next.

Finally he pointed the man across the vast parking lot and briefly watched him begin the trek to the store, a long walk on a very cold, windy day. Suddenly conscience – or conviction – seized my friend and, despite reservations, he pursued the man and offered him a ride to the store.

What began as a threat to my friend’s comfort zone, or even fear for his safety, suddenly transformed into friendly conversation. The man needing directions, it turned out, was the pastor of a small church serving a minority community in a city nearby. This “invisible person” was a fellow follower of Jesus.

One of our greatest human tendencies is to gravitate toward people “like us,” and exclude all others from our field of view. But consider the example of Jesus: He was always looking for the unlikely person – the Samaritan woman; Zacchaeus, the little guy climbing a tree to see Him; the crippled man whose friends took a risk and lowered him through a roof; smelly fishermen; a woman accused of adultery; a despised tax collector.

Maybe that’s an example we should strive to follow, especially this Christmas season.

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Philippians 2:3,4).