The comfort zone

We all have comfort zones. At least, I think we do.

My current comfort zones include:

• Ikea
• my couch
• the Louvre
• the post office where Ted works
• Brussels
• the cute scone place

Outside of my comfort zone:

• Charles de Gaulle airport
• Toronto customs
• that weird jug handle in Conshohocken
• NJ rtes 1&9
• the deli by Chris's house
• Loews

Of course, these are geographic locations. Other comfort zone criteria can include (or not) certain activities, people, or circumstances. Like, the cute scone place may not be 100% comfortable while your friend is complaining that the soup is not bland enough and you're trying to eat a fancy scone without crumbling it to bits because the butter is a little too hard. Or, Charles de Gaulle may actually be pretty fun if you're there with the cool medical director in the good duty-free shopping area and Benetton is having a sale.

I spend a lot of time outside of my comfort zone. Most of my work days, for example, giving talks, writing essays, and even trying unsuccessfully to change the light bulb on the front porch are all "stretch" activities for me. Only recently have I come to understand that most people don't live like this.

A friend (OK, a super cool, dear, important, friend) spent yesterday morning with me well outside of his comfort zone. Then he tried on shirts in the store. Men hate this. And who can blame them? Isn't that why men's clothes are all measured in inches? He looked cute and uncomfortable. And I wondered, is that how I look when I give a talk? Or do I just look tense?