Why I'm Hanging Out In My Comfort Zone With a Smoothie and a Smile

I'm snuggled up in a hotel bed with the covers practically to my chin. (A good hotel bed is seriously one of my happy places.) My kiddo is snoozing soundly on the roll-away at my feet, and my husband is downstairs hopefully winning a million dollars in the casino. (A girl can dream.)


For the moment, all feels peaceful. 

We are on an overnight stopover making our way back to the mountains after a week at the beach. And even though it was all sun-soaked and jammed with joy, I am feeling the call of my space and the gentle pull of my nourishing routines.

My heart is full, but my body is honestly drained. 

Two days before we were set to come home my four-year-old daughter Chloe declared that she was ready to go back to our "comfy, comfy house and her warm, cozy bed." I laughed at first and almost passed completely over it. 

But something told me to really hear her. 

I took it as a cue to check in with myself and how my own energy was doing. So often Chloe's insights are like the canaries in the mine of my own heart, and I find myself shaking my head saying, "How the hell did she know?" So when I did my own energy check, the tidal wave of realizations nearly knocked me over. 

I was ready too. 


Yes, the beach was awesome, and the company was so fun. And yes, the retreat from mountain life was needed. But when I looked down deep inside and asked myself the truth without all the caveats and the making nice, I realized I had reached that tipping point where the novelty of the adventure had stopped outweighing the discomforts of being away from home.  


I had this moment of total judgement. I shouldn't be wishing away my time at the beach. I had been looking forward to this trip for weeks. I should be enjoying it. And I was enjoying it. But I wanted to enjoy it from my own bed with morning smoothies that weren't made with weird wilted Mexican spinach. 

(You know, the little things.) 

And so in this 7 second shit-storm in my head, I scrambled around between denial of my truth and allowing what I was actually feeling. Which was drained. And tired. And a little water-logged and beer-drenched. The pendulum had swung itself deep into the fun of the Mexican sun, and my body was calling for a little quiet nurturing in the mountain air. I just needed a little comfort. 

Comfort doesn't have to be a dirty word, you know.

It doesn't have to be something we're constantly shunning and avoiding. Despite what thousands of Pinterest memes have to say, there is in fact plenty of growth that can happen in our comfort zones. Sure, it's great to push ourselves to try new experiences and to stretch when things aren't working. But when something is working, it's perfectly okay to fold into it.

In fact, it's downright beautiful. 

I have done *years* (can I emphasize the YEARS part) of self-discovery and spiritual work, and it feels like a pretty fucking fantastic victory these days to know so intimately what makes me comfortable. To understand my energy deeply enough that I am in sync with who I am and what I want in this life. And to passionately pursue it. 


My comfort zone is my trophy case of self-discovery.

It's the place where I can tell you just how I discovered after years of trial and error that my body loves a cold breakfast and a warm cup of lemon water. It's the spot where I can show you the exact type of meditation that gets me straight into the heavens in two seconds flat. And it's the corner of my heart where I keep all the Grease lyrics and Days of Thunder lines for the days when I need them most.

It's a fun, inviting place, and there's nothing wrong with being there. 

What I know for sure is that we are energetic beings, and our energy leaves a thick residue in the places we lay our hearts. It's the reason a hug from your mom can feel like coming home. Or snuggling on your couch is sometimes spiritual in and of itself.

Comfort is good.

It rejuvenates the soul and builds our confidence. And despite what a million annoying motivational posters say, I think comfort zones are just as important as the uncomfortable ones. It takes a brave, confident, loving person to give herself what she needs when she needs it. To gracefully take time alone. To boldly ask to be held. To manage her energy regardless of where the previous plan was taking her.

To choose comfort.  


There is a delicate balance between adventuring out and also giving yourself permission to cocoon in that sweet pool of comforting energy within. And when you discover that perfect formula of self-stretching while giving yourself exactly what you need, you've struck self-mastery gold. 

This life thing is all about knowing you after all. 

It's about hanging onto the beliefs that make you feel good and finding comfort in being aligned with yourself. It's about hearing your heart's whispers and course-correcting back into yourself when you're offtrack. It's about finding a groove that works for you. 

So do you. 

And I will blissfully do me. From my comfort zone. With a smoothie and a smile.