That's me in the dog costume, standing in the median between the lanes of 94 in St. Charles, across from Fazoli's and the QT (if you know the area). Thankfully, it was a chilly April morning, so I was more comfortable in the "Gilda the Golden" costume than I usually am. *
Love a Golden--the dog rescue group I volunteer with--was having a rummage sale. That explains why I was in the not-breathable and definitely not-flattering outfit. But what about the how?
How do people step out of their comfort zone? How do people get out of their rut? How do any of us try something different--something we've never done before?
By taking one step. No, I don't mean here's-the-one-thing-you-need-to-do kind of step. I mean a literal or figurative movement. Move a foot forward. Raise your hand and volunteer. Say, "Sure. I'll try it." Start a new document that's far different from your norm. Wade in at the shallow end. You might find you like it.
I once tried to get into a romance anthology. It had a Christmas theme. Romance is something I never write and rarely read. But I wrote a short story, and put a Sioux-spin on it. Lots of snark. Healthy helpings of humor.
It was quickly rejected. I enjoyed writing it, and the writers I shared it with thought it was funny. If I had been unwilling to at least attempt it, I would have missed out on the fun I had when I wrote it.
I have a blogging friend who has (probably? privately?) scoffed at my love of Crocs. Most likely, she's seen my posts and photos of the BUS (butt-ugly shoes) and at least mentally laughed at my shoe choice.
So what are you going to try that's out of your comfort zone? What are you going to raise your hand and say "yes" to?
This "hot dog" wants to know...
* Also thankfully, the person who took this picture did not catch me when I was doing my "pointer' routine. To grab more attention, I also danced (in my usual, herky-jerky Elaine Benes dance-style) and also sometimes acted like a pointer dog. I'd lift one leg up and try to hold it straight out while at the same time, I'd also lean forward and "point" with one arm. Being old and fat and out of shape, this resulted in comical results. I'd lose my balance, stumble a bit, and then try to see how close I was to the road. I'm sure I was responsible for some chuckles on that cold Saturday morning...