Nothing makes us more uncomfortable than being outside our typical zones of comfort. Especially when we are forced to do so, having no say whatsoever about being there.
Saturday, I had a say.
It was our team’s first fundraiser – wait for it…wait for it…a purse
party. Yeah, I know. Tell me and MY comfort zone about it. Sometimes my big mouth gets me in a lot of
trouble and this was one of those times.
I had been in a customer’s office back in early November, roughly 3 days
after agreeing to campaign for LLS.
“Hey, Cindy, I LOVE
your bag!”
“You do? Well, I sell them! Want to have a home party?”
(Silently: Um, <insert not
acceptable language> NO.)
But in Pavlov fashion, I responded with, “Well maybe.
If we can somehow turn it into a fundraiser, then yes, I would
absolutely love to have a purse party.”
Like I ever imagined those
words ever coming out of my mouth.
It was actually really fun.
I have some wicked funny girlfriends, most of whom make jokes at my
expense, so I love them all the more.
Dana and her family members came over; I’m glad they were able to meet
Liv briefly. We laughed, shopped, and
made some money for the cause. Angela
came up from Indy the night before for a team “meeting,” and to help get
everything ready. I’m pretty sure she
isn’t speaking to me anymore, but once her cool purse arrives she’ll forget all
about being out of her own comfort zone.
Cancer completely comes out of nowhere most times, not
asking us what we have to say about it and certainly never inquiring about our
comfort at any point throughout the process.
It’s a pretty rude guest. Yet
once we realize it has crashed our party, all we can think about is how to kick
it out as quickly as possible; sometimes without even telling anyone else
around us that it has shown up uninvited.
Whether individually or someone we know, a diagnosis always
strikes when we are least prepared, mostly because we aren’t thinking about
it. We are just going about our usual
business – work, groceries, calendars, trying to put away Christmas decorations
before Valentine’s Day, that kind of stuff.
And then we are immediately transported to a place called NotMyComfortZone
against our will.
But it’s ok. There
are good people there. People who love
you and want you to get back home. And
years later you will realize that even though it was a total interruption of
everything you had planned, being outside of your comfort zone helps you
appreciate them, purse parties, and working towards a cure so much more.
53 Days.
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