Makeover or Breakdown?

I’ve been moonlighting. Curious about my gig? A hint: I’m covered from head to toe in scratches. Have I been training alligators? Good guess, but no.

Okay, I’ll tell you. For thirty-one days, my moonlighting gig was in our front yard, making over the planter I built years ago. I’m posting about it because I like encouraging others who are considering changing their space on a budget. If you are a renter and don’t have outdoor space or can’t dig up a yard, you can brighten your world with a few potted plants. A cheerful splash of color does not need to break the bank.

The story starts on Saturday, February 21. I woke up and decided it was time for a change, so I marched to our front yard and started hacking away towers of Sticks of Fire, the orange pencil cactus. Some were almost as tall as I am. Thirty-one sweaty days later, I finished.

Sticks of Fire require almost no water, and their color is beautiful. But let me save you some trouble: if you get them, put them in a pot—not the ground. My Sticks of Fire forest started with a few small plants in the ground--which multiplied. Taking it down almost took me down.

Perhaps the story really starts seventeen years ago, when I designed our front planter. I measured a half-circle, bought concrete blocks, and created a semi-circular planter in our yard. I did multiple drives to get free dirt to fill my new planter and added succulents. Some were free, from Craigslist. It was a lot of work but satisfying. 

This is our front yard a few hours into demolition. The Sticks of Fire were five feet tall. The "before" was not bad, but things had become a bit too wild and I was ready for a change.

Fast forward to now, and the Sticks of Fire have multiplied and become trees, so I’m hacking away at them. I put out cuttings of the cactus and other succulents for people to take. It feels good to share these with others, since so many people shared cuttings with me.

Each day, my neighbors walk by, some with dogs. They ask about what the new look will be. “Top Secret,” I reply. (I love things that are Top Secret.) “Check back soon,” I say.

We broke heat records for February and March, but I kept digging. Some days I did an hour or two after working at preschool. A few days I wrestled stumps out of the ground for many hours. At times, I wondered if this was a breakdown of the stumps—or of me. (Maybe both.) 

My new garden plan involves mimicking the existing half-circle wall with two more half-circles inside. Here is the sketch I did, thinking the effect would be like a fountain. My final effect does not look exactly like this but I may add more plants. Who knows? Right now, I’m enjoying the change. 

On the hottest day, my kind neighbor Kat made me laugh when she walked her dog by our dirt installation. Her humor prevented a complete meltdown on my part (thanks, Kat). One neighbor offered help, and a few days later, another attempted to give help. I thanked them but explain that this is my mountain to climb. My sweet hubby definitely would have helped but I was determined to do it on my own.

Once the Sticks of Fire were down to stumps, it was time to remove them. The last two stumps were at least eight inches across, deep and stubborn. I used the electric saw, clippers, Japanese pull saw, and a shovel to loosen them. Mostly, I dug under the stumps to pry them out. I slipped on mud and tripped on slippery rocks. I fell into the 18-inch-deep hole I dug around the huge stump. There were tears and curses. Blisters and cuts. The preschool kids were impressed by my Band-Aid count (one day it was seven). I lift weights twice a week, but this yard work was a true workout. For all the upper body work I’ve done on this makeover, I expected my arms to look like Ronda Rousey’s by now. (They don’t.)

Day fifteen: I finally got the biggest Sticks of Fire stump out of the ground. The roots had formed twisty knots and wrestling them out was not fun. After a long labor, my bundle of agony was finally out of the ground. I'm exhausted but victorious!

Here I am, sitting in the hole that the stump was in.
It's 18" deep and almost as long as a bathtub!

.

The second big stump, Sir Stumps A Lot, came out next. 

Notice the weed cloth that did not prevent weeds. Instead, 
the roots grew through it, making the extraction...extra fun.

After that victory, I leveled the dirt and started building my walls. I’m using concrete blocks that I already had, repurposing them. I replanted succulents that I took out of our planter, as well as some I’ve had in pots. I'm putting down cardboard onto the dirt as a weed barrier (Sam, thanks for the tip!). Weed barrier fabric has not worked for me, so we will see if cardboard does. Next, I will add succulents, which I've been growing for years. They multiply, so this is great for my Small Budget/Big Impact plan. 

Progress shot...

I spent almost nothing on this project. I bought a bag of soil and nine extra concrete blocks from Craigslist. A lot of my materials we repurposed from my other projects. Back yard plants were moved into the front yard. I shoveled rocks we already had in the front yard into my new planter. Reusing is satisfying.

These wall planters were ones I moved from the back.
I already had mini disco balls and beads,
 so creating this area was free.

I enjoy the variety of colors and textures.
Don't be afraid to experiment...

This is a mosaic pot I made years ago.
Painting the rim with turquoise paint I already had
makes the orange flowers pop. I love contrast!

The flamingos were moved into their own area

so they can be a flamboyance of flamingos.

(That is what a group of them is. Seriously!)

Moving things around (indoors or outdoors) can give your space a refresh, often without spending a dime.

I love sharing these triumphs to encourage others not to fear DIY projects. This post is not about bragging—it’s about sharing tips and a few laughs. You can make your space beautiful without spending a lot.

To be honest, I’m a little conflicted about posting this essay. We have a lot of terrible things happening in the world right now, and I don’t want to be insensitive by posting a lighthearted essay on plants. Still, I’m going to post, and I hope that my readers get a boost from it. I won’t deny that our country and our world are struggling hard. But we also need breaks from our stress--moments of joy.

It’s Holy Week, the week leading up to Easter. Some friends will celebrate Passover this week. Whether you celebrate Easter or Passover or something else—I wish you a happy spring. I hope that you find beautiful moments each day and the sun warms your face. Until next time, be safe and shine on! 

A Giant Makeover

Once upon a time, there lived a twelve-foot skeleton who welcomed people to his San Diego neighborhood. His name was Festive Franklin, and he stood outside his home. He stood as a beacon of cheer to all who saw him, including an artist named Sarah, who regularly drove by his castle.

Sarah noticed that he had his own Instagram (of course he did—he was the unofficial mayor of his neighborhood) and she began to follow his account. For more than a year, Franklin had been posting pictures of himself, dressed in cool clothes for each holiday. Being a festive dresser herself, Sarah was glad that Franklin enjoyed celebrating life. But for the last few months, it seemed Franklin was so busy greeting neighbors and visitors that he had forgotten to wear festive frocks.

One day, Sarah dropped a note in the mailbox at Franklin’s place. She offered to make Franklin a “2026” shirt to help him ring in the new year. Franklin’s mom/manager/momager texted immediately and gave Sarah the go-ahead.  Which brings us to today….

Franklin in his birthday suit.

______________________________________

Blog readers, this is my first post of 2026. It is not an easy time in the world right now, and I hope this post brings a touch of levity to your day.  We can’t ignore the challenges in our world, but we do need breaks from stress. People need to smile and laugh, so consider this your creative coffee break.

Have you ever made clothes for a twelve-foot skeleton? Now, I can check that off my list. And you can, too!

If you want to dress a giant skeleton, you do not need to know how to sew. All you need is an idea. (Of course, you also will need stretchy fabric, and hot glue or fabric glue. But my point is, anyone can do this if they want to.)

Franklin’s mom and I texted ideas back and forth. She explained that you can’t put clothes onto Franklin the way you dress yourself, because there are cables behind him holding him upright. Any clothing would need to be tied in the back, like a hospital gown.

My initial sketch.

Over the course of two weeks, I chipped away at the project, after work or when I needed a break from my usual chores. First, I focused on a shirt for Franklin. I researched online how big the shirt would need to be, then cut pieces for it from a stretchy sheet I thrifted a year or two ago for another project. I sewed up the sides of the shirt, but you could hot glue them if you prefer. Next, I added decorations to the shirt, using felt, paint, gems and fabric scraps I already had. 

This shirt looked big. Would it be big enough?

Gems gave it some extra sparkle...

I wondered if Frankie might feel extra naked if he had only a shirt, so I decided to make him pants from the same stretchy sheet. (Online, skeleton pants measured approximately 93 inches long, which seemed really long—that’s almost eight feet of pants! But this was my first skeleton makeover, so I trusted the dimensions given.) If the pants were too big, I could cut them on site. They looked like they would be too large even for Shaquille O’Neal. I love Shaq. He is a giant at 7’1”, and he also has a big heart. Shaq often does kind things for kids and people who need help. 

Progress shot.

View from a six-foot ladder. 

How cute is he?

It turned out, the pants were not too big—they could have been longer! But we will get to that soon. I dyed half of the pants with green fabric dye that was left over from a past project. Tie dye is fun, and it felt like a fitting look for a guy whose name is “Festive.”

Once I finished painting and decorating, I cut the back of the shirt and pants, and attached ties made from left-over fabric. Frankie’s pants easily could have been another foot longer, but since this is San Diego, he won’t get too cold. This project did not cost anything to make, as I had all the supplies at home already, and it felt extra satisfying to create a lot of impact for free. 

Today was Dress Up Day, and I got to meet Franklin’s parents. They were friendly and fun and delighted that I wanted to do a giant makeover on Franklin. I was delighted that they wanted me to. Ares helped me dress Frankie, and held the ladder. If you dress a twelve-foot skeleton, bring a trusty person to hold the ladder. Also bring safety pins and clamps, just in case.

Franklin's green belt was supposed to be a headband, but I could not get high enough to fasten it, so we made it into a belt. Voila!

This was an enjoyable project for me. A bit of a challenge, but manageable. Sometimes you just need to do something that is a happiness-booster. Potentially, I can boost a lot of people’s happiness—not just mine. Anyone driving by will notice that Franklin is starting 2026 off with a festive look. If I can add a little joy to someone’s day, I’m glad to do it!

Making people smile or laugh has been one of my favorite things to do—for decades. As a teenager I did this through theater, and as an adult, I’ve tried to bring cheer to people through my art. I have been a teacher for more than eight years, and it’s been a pleasure to cheer on my students, and to give encouragement—a kind word, a smile, a high five.

So, from Festive Franklin and Sassy Sarah, Happy New Year. I will keep bringing some sparkle to my corner of the world, and so will Frankie…

Is there a project you undertook, simply because it sounded fun? Share in the comments below. Also, please send this to a friend or two. It would be fun to see how many people Franklin can cheer up. In my next post, I will let you know how many people we reached.

Til then, keep shining!

Love Thy Neighbor

 

Hello again! I’m back with more adventures at preschool, along with some kiddo art and some of my own art. Blog posts often bring out my reflective moods, with my looking back at recent events, funny moments and life lessons. A Thanksgiving blog post makes me extra reflective, because it’s a time to think about how fortunate we are.

Sweaty Summer:

Before we talk Thanksgiving, let’s back up a few months.  The summer went quickly, as every teacher has said since the beginning of time. July arrived and a friend hired me to paint a mural in her back yard. The temperature suddenly skyrocketed, and I found myself sweating before even starting to paint. But four toasty days later, I finished the mural and my friend was delighted with the result. She wanted a lush tropical scene on the fence in her yard, with a glimpse of the ocean in the distance. My friend knew exactly which flowers she wanted and we chose the paint colors together. I loved how the mural turned out and was grateful that our timing meshed. It’s been a long time since I regularly painted murals, and most of them were indoors, so this experience reminded me what an endurance sport mural painting really is. 

More Art:

I make art every week. Lately I’ve been into collage, painting over junk mail, ripping it into pieces to glue together. I like it when the original text peeks through. Here are a few of my recent paintings and mixed media art pieces:

I made this zipper capelet, from mostly thrifted zippers. Wearable art!

Back to School:

At the end of summer, I felt a certain degree of dread. Although I was excited to see the preschool kids again, it’s always hard for me to give up the more flexible pace of summer. But when the preschoolers came back to school, their happy faces, questions and enthusiasm made me smile. I noticed how they’d grown, and who had different haircuts. A few of them threw their arms around me when they first saw me, and honestly, this is one of the best feelings in the world.

Lots of our kids from the three-year-old class are no longer at school this year. In our area, public schools now offer free T-K (Transitional Kindergarten) for kids as young as three. I can’t blame the parents for choosing the free option, but it’s bittersweet that the school population is smaller than it was in the spring. In related news, despite having fewer kids at school, the noise level is just as high. But at times, a joyful kid is a loud kid. It’s okay! 

We started up our preschool art studio the second week of school. I do art with each class twice a week and if the weather is cooperative, we create outdoors. Most of the kids love experimenting with paint, shaving cream, finger paint, dot markers, play dough, and paper for collage projects. After the kids helped paint fall leaves, I decorated the pergola over our art area. I wanted it to look like the colorful leaves were falling from the trees above.

 

Halloween: 

Halloween is always fun when you work with kids. They start planning their costumes weeks ahead of time, and their choices are a window into their personalities. One little girl with tons of energy said she wanted to be a ninja. We had princesses, Spider man, Lightning McQueen, and a child dressed as a yellow crayon, among other costumes. The kids did spooky artwork leading up to Halloween. We painted pumpkins and ghosts, bats and cats, which I displayed on our playground wall. 

 I made two haunted houses from cardboard and hot glue, and they had fun painting the houses. I taught the four-year-olds how to make spooky trees from pipe cleaners. You twist pipe cleaners to form branches, which should be gnarled and twisty, full of haunted energy. The kids also cut gravestones, which I glued to form a haunted graveyard. 

Yes, a festive season, indeed. 

Learning our ABCs:

Every preschool teaches the alphabet, colors and numbers. I can almost see the kids’ brains developing, right in front of me. But this fall, I’ve had an interesting experience with one of our new students. She is four, and I will call her M. M speaks Japanese at home, and when she started, her mom said that M does not speak English. I knew she would learn quickly, as kids do. The first week she was in school, I noticed that M does have many English words. True—she doesn’t have as many as her classmates, but M spoke plenty of words. I see her language develop each week. M fascinates me. She is fearless on the playground and full of joy and confidence. She gets her point across, even with gaps in her vocabulary. “I lunch you,” was M’s way of saying she was giving me lunch (a toy plate filled with sand from our sandbox). One day, she noticed two friends fighting over a toy and she ran to me, pointed and said, “Angry!” I hurried over to referee the problem. I love that M is not self-conscious about her developing language skills. She is full of smiles, questions and observations. It’s a good reminder for me: don’t aim for perfection. Aim for happiness. 

Thanksgiving:

In case you haven’t seen all the Christmas and Hannukah decorations in stores, it’s true—it’s Thanksgiving season. The preschool kids made hats for our Friendsgiving party at school. Each child brought a piece of fruit to add to our Friendship fruit salad, a colorful collaboration. The kids sat outdoors together and shared some food and friendship. It was adorable and a wonderful way to talk about Thanksgiving and what we appreciate. The kids helped paint giant pieces of fruit to spill out of the cornucopia I made, and they colored the letters to spell “Thanksgiving.”  

This Thanksgiving, I feel grateful for many people and things. We all have our worries but I’m focusing on the good. I want to share something inspiring that I witnessed this month.

My fellow San Diegans have such big hearts. There are donation bins around town, including in grocery stores, where people can donate food to those who need it. This is something that happens every fall around Thanksgiving and Christmas, but it feels extra meaningful this year. When many people’s SNAP food benefits were cut on November first, San Diegans stepped up to help their neighbors. The school our youngest attends immediately sent out an email, asking for donations of non-perishable food. The email listed ideas for donations and assured everyone that the kids could come get what they needed and bring some home to their families. I bought some items and put them in a bag by our front door. A few days passed and before I could bring our bag in, another email came from the principal. The message was this: don’t bring any more food for now. We are at capacity! In a matter of a few days, they received hundreds of items. A plan was suggested to bag up items and leave them for students to pick up at the building next door, so their privacy would be protected. My heart swelled with happiness, seeing how quickly people jumped in to help their neighbors. It’s hard enough being a teenager, without worrying about how your family is going to manage. 

Since I hadn’t donated my bag to school yet, I donated it to the bins inside the grocery store, knowing that people in need will benefit. In case you haven’t been inside the store recently, the bins are already quite full. 

This really warmed my heart. It shows how kind most people are. I love these moments when people’s differences fade away, and we are united by a common goal to help others. The act of sharing is one of the most fundamental parts of being human. San Diego, you really showed your kindness during the Thanksgiving season.

If anyone needs an extra boost, I would like to share a website called Tank's Good News. Here is the link: Tanks Good News.

This site posts only positive stories about inspiring people and animals. It’s an especially happy place to land when you need a break from negative news. 

So, on this Thanksgiving week, when the sun sets earlier and the night seems darker, I want to wish everyone a happy Thanksgiving. Let’s shine a bright light out to our neighbors, and our fellow human beings. Let’s keep sharing and keep shining, too… 

Building Bravery

 

I’m at the top of the water slide and there is only one way down.

This might be a bad idea, my brain whispers. You don’t like speed or falling. And you keep getting letters from the AARP. 

“Humph!” I retort, refusing to back down. It seemed like a manageable plan when I was climbing up. Yes, I’m fifty-one and I haven’t been on a water slide in years—but I’m challenging my comfort zone, so here I am, perched up high, with the water far below.

I picture myself gliding down the slide with the grace of a mermaid, landing elegantly into the turquoise water with barely a ripple. I fumble from a standing to a sitting position and attempt to lay down on the slide. My body starts to slide, so I grab the sides above me. Yikes! Too fast! But gravity is pulling me downward, so half nervous, half elated, I let go.

A moment later I splash into the water, and surface with a bear-like snort, water up my nose. My hair is like a tangled clump of seaweed (Ariel the mermaid never had this problem), but I swim to the edge and feel a little proud that I did something new, something not entirely comfortable. Of course, I’m glad that no one witnessed my awkward attempt. This was just for me. It didn’t need to be graceful—it just had to be done.

Truthfully, this was not one of those skyscraper waterslides you see in videos online. It was an eight-foot 1970s pool slide with a curve, but shoot—I challenged my own doubts, and I'm glad.

Moments later, I’m informed that the family did see my descent, and I feel a bit chagrined. My performance was like the videos of a confused panda somersaulting backwards off a deck or getting tangled as she attempts to belly-flop a swing set. These pandas are graceless--but determined. My slide attempt was clumsy. The Olympic synchronized swim team will not be recruiting me, but hey—I’m proud I did it. 

A year ago, I decided I was going to try more things outside my comfort zone, without caving to my fears of failure or looking stupid. Trying things (not cuteness or perfection) is the win.

So what is bravery? It often is portrayed as physical challenges in which injury is possible--visible displays that defy fear or gravity. As kids, our role models were Wonder Woman and Superman. We learn that bravery is skydiving, bungee-jumping or walking over hot coals. Action. Capes. Shields. Heights.

I say sure, these acts require courage, but bravery can be small acts (that feel big). It's brave to raise your hand in class, sharing a personal story because your teacher asks for volunteers. Your heart may have been pounding, and this goes against your brain’s command to avoid anxiety-inducing acts. But you did it anyway. I'm proud of you for that.

Sometimes bravery is in doing something new. Or making major life changes. Bravery is not a contest, with a finish line and a clear winner. It’s not always a physical challenge--it may be an attempt to overcome a fear. Bravery is built by challenging yourself.

My own bravery journey has been an ongoing quest. I've done activities that made me scared, like climbing Half Dome at Yosemite. But the bigger challenges were not physical--they were emotional. My journey has had loops, wrong turns and dead ends, but I kept going. Two books that helped me shift my fear of judgement are Brave, not Perfect by Reshma Saujani and Rejection Proof by Jia Jiang. I heard NPR interviews with each author, and their stories fascinated me. I decided that like them, I wanted to try things that were out of my comfort zone. 

Physical Threats

When I was a child, I was scared of everything: big kids, dogs, snakes, spiders, heights, judgement, the dark, roller coasters. I’m still scared of heights but over the last few years I have challenged myself to ride the Skyfari gondola above the San Diego Zoo. You ride high over the treetops—awesome for some, but scary for me. I’ve ridden it at least thirty times now, and while it’s not 100% comfortable, I’m much less nervous than before. I used to count the seconds until it was over, both hands clenched onto the pole. Gradually, I began holding the pole with only one hand, and eventually, I stopped needing to hold the pole at all. To those without a fear of heights, this may not seem like a big deal. But for those of us who don’t enjoy falling, this was a big deal. A sign of my growth. I’m proud of that.

Me on the Skyfari ride. Look--no hands!

And what about my fear of snakes? In the last few months, I've challenged myself to look at the snakes in the science museum. I used to look at the floor in the reptile room, determined not to look at snakes, with their beady eyes and big appetites. But recently, I started looking at the snakes because I wanted to challenge my fears. When I was very young—five or six—we saw a long rattlesnake on the ground, less than ten feet away. I was terrified. My mom told us to back up very slowly so as not to startle the snake. The snake moved along, and no one was hurt. But this is a core memory, and it is not easy to overcome fears that date back decades. So, looking at snakes in glass enclosures is my first step toward challenging my own fears. We will not be getting a snake as a pet any time soon (at all, ever) but I’m building my way up to possibly holding a gentle, sleepy, small snake at local nature center. 

(Update: I wrote this post about two weeks before publishing it and during that time I said to myself, "Why put this off? You can go hold a snake right now. Empowering!" So, we went to a nature center and held a California Kingsnake. I was a little nervous but not terrified. I challenged my own fear and it wasn't overly scary. Go me!)

Physical health can present huge threats. I know people who are facing true health challenges right now: cancer of various sorts. That takes amazing courage by the patient as well as by the patient's loved ones. A friend’s husband is battling cancer, and I know she worries about him. But I see her walking her dogs each morning, going to work, dropping kids at school, despite her worries over her husband’s cancer. He is brave and so is she.

Physical threats sometimes involve the loss of a home, which is a double loss because it also involves emotional loss. I’m quite proud of the people I know who have started over after losing their home. Putting one foot in front of the other after tragedy—that takes guts. Courage doesn’t have a look or an age—it’s on the inside.

Emotional Threats

Fears sometimes involve emotional discomfort, not a lack of physical safety. A lion eating us is frightening for obvious reasons, but why is public speaking so scary to many people?

It's brave to face an emotional hurdle. 

Our ancestors who lived outdoors faced physical threats as well as emotional threats like exclusion. When people lived in nomadic tribes, feeling accepted within the tribe ensured survival, because food, shelter and safety were group goals. To be shunned could lead to death. Fear of exclusion is real, even if we are no longer nomads.  This is why fitting in at school feels so important to kids. Everyone wants to belong without judgment. 

A close friend came to town for the weekend, and we had a long talk about life. She’s faced a lot of challenges and is still finding her footing. In my eyes, she has true courage and resilience.

I'm proud of facing an emotional challenge a few months ago. It was graduation at the school where I taught art for seven years. When I visited my former students at school in September 2024, I promised the eighth grade that I would go to their graduation in June 2025 and I wanted to keep my promise and cheer on the kids. But I was nervous about it for weeks ahead of time because I did not want to be near my former boss at graduation. He was dishonest with me, and I confronted him when I visited school in September. Although necessary, the confrontation was uncomfortable, and I didn’t want a repeat. But I found the courage to go, and it was so good to see the kids again and to be part of their milestone. Of course, it wrecked me afterward—the loss of that part of my life. It opened wounds that had been healing for almost a year. Still, I’m proud that I didn’t let fear stop me. Courage can be small or big acts—but it often means doing what you feel is right, even when there is potential discomfort.

Fear of judgment or exclusion has reared its head multiples times in my life. My fears said, “Don’t rock the boat. It’s safer to be quiet.” So, I didn’t speak up. Or if I did, I was tentative. I dressed in a safer way, because I wanted to earn approval. I’m happy to say that I’ve grown and I dress in whichever fun way I want now. I speak up. I still like belonging but I’m not willing to shrink myself to fit into the mold. (Shrinking myself to please others didn’t work anyway, so it was a double loss.)

Sometimes going against the group feels as threatening as battling a lion. Speaking up might lead to exclusion—but it is essential to find the courage to be true to yourself. 

Fight or Flight

How do our bodies respond to fear? Some people sweat, faint, or have a fast heartbeat. Why do we have physical responses, even when the threat is emotional discomfort rather than physical harm? My online search led to the University of Edinburgh Science Media website, which posted the article 

 "Fear: from ancestral origins to modern thrill-seekers."  

Here is what I found:

Anxiety first emerged for human protection in the face of present danger. Fast forward to modern times, and our need to protect ourselves from predators has disappeared. Some of those instincts have remained ingrained in our programming, but most of our fear now lies in the future; whether that be paying bills on time, preparing for exams or working on a relationship. We now live in a delayed return environment, where the choices we make in the present will often not have an impact until later.

When we are afraid or anxious, our bodies release stress hormones. This leads to increased blood flow and oxygen directed to our muscles—a way to prepare our bodies for battle or escape (fight or flight).

So why do some of us experience these physical symptoms when we are not in physical danger? Certain activities feel emotionally dangerous. For some people, public speaking leads to the release of stress hormones--even a panic attack. There is no actual lion, but the audience feels like the lion.

Yet there are people who love scary activities—haunted houses or extreme sports. Why do these people run toward frightening activities, while others run from them? The University of Edinburgh article says that some people seek a natural high (dopamine release) from scary activities.  

The Comfort Zone

People fascinate me: our differences, and our commonalities. Everyone fears something.

Our fears and strengths are a map of who we are. What do we fear? What is our comfort zone?

We are encouraged to get out of our comfort zone. This often feels counterintuitive—like trying to exist without oxygen. So, why get out of our comfort zone? Here are a few reasons:

·       Our comfort zones can be a safe place, but they may limit us, too. If you don’t try new things, you may be missing out on something wonderful.

·       Taking baby steps out of your comfort zone allows you to grow. Growth is good!

·       Tiptoeing out of our comfort zone is a way to challenge our own fears, to dismantle them. If you challenge that inner voice that says, “Don’t,” and you try something and it goes well, that fear no longer controls you. It’s freeing.

There is a kid at my preschool who recently challenged his own comfort zone. He’s four and this is his first time in preschool. He looks strong and confident but he was nervous about his first visit to our outdoor art studio. His teacher cajoled him into trying it and I didn’t insist that he try the messy stuff like finger paint. He was allowed to play with toys I have set up for the kids who don’t want to make messes. I reassured him that he can take his time getting used to this new activity. Allowing someone to take baby steps is important, whether that person is four or sixty-four. It helps ease their anxiety. The new activity is not always the challenge—it’s the fear of the unknown aspects of the new activity/food/person/job/place. Fear of failure or discomfort.

A friend recently commented that she wishes she had the courage to dress in a braver manner. She is stylish but sticks to a neutral palette. I was surprised because I think of her as quite brave. She plays softball, after all! I dress in a fun and perhaps brave way, but I’m terrified of softballs. (Specifically, moving softballs. Softballs on the ground are okay.) I’d rather confront a rattlesnake than get hit by a softball zooming toward my head at fifty miles per hour! What terrifies some is fun and exciting to others. 

Discomfort won’t kill you.

A therapist I know says that avoiding scary things is not the answer. She advises us to remember that we can handle uncomfortable things. Avoiding discomfort keeps us removed from the possibility of good outcomes. Her advice has been helpful when I was nervous. If the “why” is important, and the potential good is there, challenge yourself to try something and know that you can handle some discomfort. The growth is the reward. This is coming from me, the kid who was so shy at four years old, she stood outside birthday parties because she didn’t want the kids looking at her. (I’ve come a long way!)

Have you overcome a fear? Please share in the comment section. 

(I've been told that the comment section is not allowing people to comment this time around. Sorry about that. Blogger seems to be a little temperamental right now. If you are able to comment, I always enjoy the feedback.)

I hope you are proud of challenging your fears, even if you think they are small victories. They aren’t. And challenging our fears helps us to grow. Let's keep building our bravery. We’ve got this!