Anyone out there a Fixer Upper fan? It’s a show about a couple who live in Waco, Texas and renovate homes for people practically sight unseen. I loved watching the transformations take place. A run-down-bordering-on-creepy old house turned into a modern and airy cottage. An abandoned barn turned into a beautiful custom home with an amazing dining room. From sheep to chic. I was cruising their website, Magnolia, looking to see what pretty object I could find to spruce up my own new house when I noticed their boldly stated motto: “We believe in courage, in cartwheeling past our comfort zones and trying something a little bit scary every day. – Magnolia Manifesto”
Not sure why, but that motto kind of stuck to me. Like gum you accidentally stepped on. It’s a pain to get every little bit off your shoe. A little bit more should do it. Nope. Still there. What have I tried today that was just little bit scary? Well, let’s be honest, not a whole lot.
Anyone ever feel stuck? Your wheels are turning but can’t gain traction in the mud? They just spin. And, spin. It’s easy to get stuck in a routine of whatever’s comfortable every night, night after night. And then you’re like, crap, five months just passed by and I haven’t done a thing. But, what am I actually doing? I want to do something a-maz-ing. But, what is it? I have no frickin’ clue. But that feeling is there. It’s deep. It’s constant and it nags, naws, at me. I could be doing something more. Something big… ever feel that way, too?
It occurred to me that comfort is a beast in its own way. Its deceptive charm draws you in, slowly and deeply, until you’re snagged. You don’t even know you’ve been attacked because you’re drawn in and it feels so good. But comfort has its own agenda. Like Kaa, the python in The Jungle Book, it hypnotizes you ever so slightly, and then unnoticeably, sinks its fangs in. A little deeper, and a little deeper. Before you even consciously question comfort over action, its hold on you is hard to shake. Not to mention, it’s addictive. Hard to recognize when you’re in it. Stop it before those fangs sink in, again. It’s always so easy just to let them.
I’m trying hard to get away from that beast, comfort, and his friend, procrastination. I want to be like those beautiful Magnolia people and try something a little scary. Every day. Things like writing this book I’ve been thinking of for … could it be decades? The one that has nagged at me since I was a young girl? At this rate, even trying something a little scary once a week would be good.
But, it’s like I said, comfort is a deceptive beast. Do you feel it too?