I have a comfort zone and I like it very much. If I travel too far away or out of it, I tend
to get antsy. I’m not so bad now that I
am older and wiser, (it is probably really cynicism), but when I was a lot
younger, I had my routine and if it changed in any shape or form I got the
jitters. A new environment with strange
faces filled me with unease. I can still
vaguely remember my first day at school.
I had no idea where I was or indeed, what the place was about. And as for the millions, because it certainly
seemed that way, of other kids also gathered there, my mind just boggled. I was a bit of a sheep. It’s what I do best when I am unsure. I just follow the crowd. Where are we all going now? The bathroom?
Grand job. What’s this yard and
why have we got these plastic boxes?
It’s the playground and this is my lunch? Oh, ok.
What’s happening now? So on and so forth until some sort of recognition
arrived and I settled in. Recently my
nephew started secondary school. He has
gone from being a big fish in a little pond to being a tiny fish in a massive
ocean. It brought back distant and
uneasy memories for me. Secondary school
was a shock to my system. It was all one
big huge adventure until I discovered that I had the wrong school bag, I was
supposed to wear my socks down, not up to my knees and as for timetables? What the hell
were they?? Then shock piled straight onto horror as we were separated up into
three classes. I was aghast and mildly
panicked to discover that there were only three, three faces that I knew from primary school in amongst 30 other
alien people. I hadn’t been expecting
that at all. When I moved on and out
into the working world it took me the best part of six months to settle into a
new job. I stayed in my first going nowhere
fast job for five years because I was afeared of the wide blue yonder. But I struck out and took the bull by the
horns plus every other awful cliché you can think of and got myself another
job. I well and truly not only left my
comfort zone behind, but discovered what life without a safety net, cushions
and hot chocolate is really like. I like my bubble; my nice, familiar, safe and
warm environment where I am surrounded by like-minded people with the same or
similar thoughts and beliefs. I don’t
like confrontation. But when it lifted its ugly head I stood up for myself and
with a heart that ran the very real risk of bursting from stress and anxiety, I
stood my ground and had my say. Then I
took shelter in the nearest bathroom and shook for twenty minutes whilst ordering
myself not to break down and cry. Tribe.
Family. Clan. Kin. We’ve all got one yet sometimes it can be hard to
feel connected. I think we all need to move
out of our comfort zone to really discover who we are and what we are capable
of. It is stress making in the extreme and
you’d better be prepared for a lot of second guessing. Second guessing yourself, that is, but it is
worth it. Your bubble is always
there. It is a lot stronger than its filmy
appearance and you might return to it a little bit different but it is nice to
take something from a new experience. I
have a lot of bubbles. I have a lot of places I go to for shelter, advice,
inspiration and solace. I know I am in
good company in all of them and that I can speak my mind in a way I know I
couldn’t elsewhere. We, all of us, are
multi-faceted and these are just my other dimensions. The
really good thing about bubbles is that we can pick and choose. One bubble does not fit all. But there is one bubble that always makes me
feel safe, secure and right at home. It
is in the most unlikely of places; under the stairs. It’s a new development. I call it my club house for the simple reason
my two older boys have one on the half landing.
Underneath our stairs are two not too soft, not too hard, but just right
armchairs and mama bear likes to seek refuge under there. There is a large window overlooking the back
garden so there is a view as well. Mama
bear has been known to creep under the stair and set up camp on one of the
chairs. Sometimes I will take my large
brown hard backed notebook and a pen, sometimes a magazine, other times a
coffee but the best times, I go in there by myself. I have gotten ten minutes of solitude, just
me and my nothing thoughts, before I have been discovered. I couldn’t honestly tell you what I was
thinking about. But I can reveal there
was stillness, peace and calm. Both
mentally and physically. Then the cubs,
woken by their sixth sense, came in search. The first time I sat under there,
and they came looking, I didn’t move. But their radars found me. “Mammy!
What are you doing under there?” Sixth
senses are strong and so are the sat nav’s on their bubbles. I am their bubble. Their shelter, their refuge and solace. And, it appears, they are mine.
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