Redefining the Safe Zone

So, I have made a commitment to myself to intentionally stretch to test the limits of my capabilities rather than just playing it safe and sticking with what comes easily. The weird thing is that I'm starting to realize that if something is within the limits of my capabilities, it really isn't all that risky. Circumstances outside my control may impact the success of my efforts, but if I am acting within my abilities, I don't really have a valid reason for lacking confidence. What I recognize is that I'm actually redefining the boundaries of my "safe zone" in this process. I'm not entirely sure what could have convinced me to draw those limits with such constraint, but expanding what I am willing to acknowledge about myself is quite a bit of fun.

Vulnerability

I am learning one of the dangers to stepping up and being fully present. When I am completely on the edge of my growth, I put myself in a bit of a vulnerable position. Just keeping a blog going means my beliefs and insights are subject to scrutiny. Someone can come along at any time and point out a flaw, notice a blind spot, or just criticize to play out their own drama. That possibility could be a really convincing excuse to hide out in the safe area of stagnation and complacency.

But there is something invigorating about being engaged more fully in life, in stretching to 100% of my potential and pushing against that edge. Part of it comes directly from being vulnerable I think. Not just existing in a state of vulnerability, but actually staying on the edge when the flaws get noticed or the criticisms are hurled.

I learned something about the word "vulnerability" from Ann McMaster, who learned it somewhere along her own remarkable journey. Although we often think of a vulnerability as a weakness, in actuality it conveys a position of strength. It means "capable of being wounded." The more I think about it, the more comfortable I am with its connotations: I can be wounded without it crippling me. I do not have to be defensive. I can grow from whatever I see in the mirror of other people's reactions and responses. Being vulnerable means that I am ready and willing to keep growing.

The Outer Limits

No, not the predictable "Twilight Zone in outer space" TV show. I'm thinking of my personal limits. For the past few months, I've been striving to stretch and reach beyond the artificial limitations I once put on myself. This is fun, challenging, and rewarding. I keep learning that I can accomplish more and have a greater impact when I am living to my fullest and not sticking to the shadows. But I wasn't entirely prepared for life to bring me an experience that reminds me that I still have limits.

I acknowledge that I hold my own pretty well with people. I am often able to connect with people who are choosing to be a bit aggressive about their opinions, or even belligerent in their demeanor. I recognize that what they are expressing is about them, not me, and it's like water off a duck. I do this often enough that I'm used to being able to do so. When someone comes along that is behaving way beyond what I typically encounter, my instant belief is that I can deal with this person the same way I do everyone else... that I can still connect with this person and hold my own ground without much of an emotional cost.

The problem is that I have real limitations about how much toxicity my emotional kidneys can process. My "I can do this," becomes "I should be able to do this," and I wind up persisting in a conversation longer than what is healthy. My mind tells me that if I disengage then I am admitting failure in some weird way. And yet if I allow myself to be negatively impacted by someone else's words or behavior, I have somehow "lost."

But stretching to the fullest extent of my own personal limits doesn't imply that I have no limitations. I may be in the habit of not reaching for the absolute border of my capabilities, but that doesn't mean that I can do anything. I do have limits. I don't have to engage everyone I encounter completely in order to be an engaging person. And I can accept the reality of who some people are without enjoying my experience of their presence. I can even choose not to be around a person whose behavior is consistently toxic. It's one way of caring for myself.

Then it hits me... This is what being at the edge feels like. When I'm pushing against something in life and it's pushing back at me, I learn something about myself, reality, and Truth. When I hide out in the safe zone, far from approaching the edge my personal reach, there's no challenge. I don't get to learn anything. And the edge is where my passion is.