Heel, toe, heal, tow

Many moons ago, I was talking to my best friend about the whether we-now are persons we-then would approve of. Then being that time in which we were forming both our real selves and our ideal selves. I intended at the time of the discussion to begin writing on this topic almost immediately, since something always springs to mind as soon as the question is asked. But I didn't, as this thing had to be done, and that thing had to be fixed, and the usual routines, subroutines and occasionally unexpected turns of life commandeered my attention. Reality crowded out the existential questions and I eventually lost track of the original question, as evidenced earlier in this blog. Truly, I am only 95% positive that was the question. And all this rambling has led me to this...

Does it really matter? Who is really going to hold us to that ideal anyway? I cannot even remember my ideal person, and she certainly wasn't compelling enough to stick with me.

My life is mapping point A to Point B and following the road. Long--and I mean 5 year goal long--range planning? Not a priority (until recently: financing Rugrat A's college plans in a few years). I do feel compelled to share some of my Road Rules:

Be polite. Kind of the Golden Rule thing, as I remind Rugrat B almost daily: it doesn't matter so much if the other person is not so polite as long as you are. Be an example. A good one. Say excuse me after you burp.
Clean up after yourself. Same concept, and then do a little extra.
Be careful. This covers everything from just don't do stupid stuff to taking care of yourself so you can observe the next rule.
Have fun. Really. Yeah, it's overused, possibly trite, but--in the word of one of my favorite people: "This is your life; if you're not having fun, you're not doing it right."
Finally, don't forget yourself. It may not be all about you, but it is your life. YOU are living your life.

A great, great, GREAT many things can be done in this kind of life. Risks are even a part of that, because there are a great many kinds of risks that don't involve losing your life. Risking my life is a daily and unavoidable occurence, though since driving a car is one helluva risk; think of all the numbskulls, nimrods and flakes out there in cars, too (and whoever gave them licenses and keys must have thought that would be fun! Ah, irony.).

This brings me to the concept of the Comfort Zone, that state of being in which we feel least afraid. As I defined that I rejected "happy place" and a couple of other ideas because Comfort Zones are not always happy. But they are not always ruts or tedious routines. Some will say that you cannot grow unless you get out of your Comfort Zone. Not true, says I. If your CZ encompasses challenges, that's a good place. If spending time with your family is your CZ and you're truly happy there, that's a good place. Growth is recognizing which CZs are bad and which are good. Growth is escaping the bad ones (like fear of public speaking, thinking you're not qualified for a better job, style is not accessible to the masses) . Growth is entering a CZ where you give yourself permission to take risks.

And here is where I tie all the seemingly random thoughts together. I have left behind several bad CZs, and I'm escaping others. I try to follow my rules and teach them to my Rugrats. I try to be a better person than the one who forgets birthdays, who doesn't give herself time to work on her scrapbooks, who doesn't write here often enough, who didn't... I cleaned today, and wrote here, and found facepaint for Rugrat A for a basketball game tonight, and called my sister to encourage her. I am engaging in that ever-important positive self-talk, because it really it is a powerful thing. Because I am the one who carries my self and I will have to live with my self for the rest of my life.

Baby steps. All the time.