How important is it? We hear a lot about comfort. We all want a comfortable bed and comfortable shoes. We want to spend time with the people who already know and “get” us, and who we know and “get”. We tend towards tasks, goals, activities that we already enjoy and know we can execute well. Some of us have less comfortable, “pet” hobbies. These are the things that we aren’t great at, but we enjoy anyway. Maybe your thumb isn’t so green, but you love to garden. Maybe you tend to burn the rice, but you love being in the kitchen. Maybe you “aren’t” an “artist” but you just like to play with paints and drawing. Maybe you write but don’t show anyone. Does it sound familiar?
I’ve claimed “writer” as a label for as long as I can remember. Only occasionally did I give myself permission to write. Or, more accurately, to share that writing. Every so often, I would take a class that let me play with words. In junior college I took all the fun writing classes. At university, I took exactly zero. When I lived in the SF Bay Area, I found a Learning Annex class on novel writing. I loved it. I wrote about 10 pages before the class was over. We only focused on openings. People agreed I had written a great opener. But left to my own devices, the rest of that book never found the page.
It’s easy to blame the jobs, bills, life, and even being single. But, if I’m honest, it was about comfort. It is much easier to stay invisible while dreaming, than to blow up the safety shield and put my work out into the world. My expression. Something about being an artist, or perhaps an introvert, the artistic expression is feels so intimate. Personal. Presenting it to the world is both exciting and terrifying. Allowing it to simply exist out in the world is a whole new dimension to the hierarchy of comfort. You must learn that it is no longer a part of you and must stand on its own. If it is well received, yay. If it gets lots of attention, yay. If it sits quietly in the corner of the room hoping for the party to be over, or maybe for a furry friend to pet…yay. Because every party is not the best one for your art.
But now, there is another layer. Promotion. Yikes! Apparently, books don’t do their own press. They certainly aren’t extroverted enough to talk about themselves. So, here I am, Miss Occasionally Awkward in a corner, showing up to Book Signing events, Bookshop Readings, and an upcoming Con. Me! Really? Truthfully, I’m grateful for all my years in customer service jobs. I can “usually” shift into engagement mode. And, unless someone asks difficult questions like “What’s your book about?” I can typically seem like a high functioning adult in the world. I know the more I do, my idea of “comfort” will change. And that, my friends, is a beautiful thing.
What does your comfort zone look like? What are you going to do to expand it?
You’ve got this!
Blessings,
Serra Wildheart
ps – Lucy & Fizzy (and their DogDad) are great agents for inspired action. Who’s in your corner?