Blisters. And Courage.
At fifteen, I talked my best friend into doing an outdoor education course that ended with an overnight trek. The aim was to take us out of our comfort zone.
In the lead up, we were supposed to construct a backpack from wood, string and plastic. The string and plastic would double as our ‘tent’.
I’m not a practical person. No experience and really, no clue. Also, I leave things to the last minute.
So, I never got around to trying out the materials I’d chosen for my pack. Instead I turned up on the day and as everyone watched in disbelief, I wrestled it all into a misshapen, uncomfortable mess, hoisted it onto my shoulders and off we went.
Within minutes I realised that square dowel sticks had not been a good choice.
I still have a tendency to leap before looking.
And I still end up with metaphorical blisters like the very real ones caused by my homemade pack.
But blisters aside, the trek strengthened my friendship with Debbie (we still laugh about my cluelessness) and showed I could keep going when things got tough (really, really tough). I had no choice but to complete the two day trek with that thing bouncing around on my spine. It was excrutiating but I did it.
Getting out of our comfort zone is going to mean a little chafing and rubbing. Our choices will sometimes vex us and sometimes we will disappoint ourselves.
But it’s the only way to get from here to there.
And we don’t want to be here forever do we?