HANNAH #10

Stretching Outside of My Comfort Zone

It ain’t easy

I’ve always taken stock of the things I do well — like writing. I like to write, which makes me want to write more, which makes me better at it. It’s true for other things too, like chess. Why would I work on the things I don’t do well when I can improve the things that I’m good at?

Adults have a saying for this. “Get out of your comfort zone,” they’ll say, and by this, they mean, place yourself in areas that feel less comfortable. Their advice feels unnatural to me, but before I knew it, I was faced with a real-life situation that took me out of my comfort zone.

Here’s how it happened.

My dad came up to Ben and me the other night and said he needed our help. Lucy was turning 38, which she viewed as a big birthday because she was now officially entering her late thirties. I decided not to challenge those feelings because… well… feelings are feelings. I am working on accepting things I find irrational.

“So, we need to make her a really nice birthday dinner, and by we, I mean you,” my dad says. “And to do this, I am going to give you $100 to buy groceries and do the cooking. This would be for tomorrow night. I hope that’s not a problem. I can be your wheels.”

Ben and I looked at each other. We both muttered some version of “no problem” but talk about a surprise! Our day went up in flames as we went to work on a menu that proved to be difficult.

Here is how the menu conversation between Ben and me went:

Me: We don’t have much time, and we need something solid. I vote for spaghetti and meatballs as the main.

Ben: Hannah, did you not hear Dad’s words, “This needs to be really nice.” Spaghetti and meatballs are everyday food. We need something like coq au vin or braised beef tips.

Me: So when did you become Julia Child? We don’t know how to make this, and we need something low risk.

Ben: We know how to read and use the Internet. We’ll be fine.

I could see that I wasn’t going to win, so I agreed to coq au vin, which sounded fancier, and anyway, I like chicken better. There were other menu items to figure out. For appetizers, I suggested a cheez whiz dip with fresh veggies.

“Why even bother with anything fresh when you’re going with cheez whiz?” asked Ben.

He countered with deviled eggs which he said he knew how to make, and they would be cheap, leaving us plenty of money for the rest of the meal.

Again, I acquiesced (I love that word) but held firm on two conditions. I was choosing dessert, which was going to be Hershey’s Perfect Chocolate Cake, and we were going to reserve ten dollars for flowers for the table.

We agreed to a salad, steamed green beans, and rice. We had a busy day ahead, all designed for Lucy, who we felt no warmth towards, but we love our dad.

Throughout the day, while we were looking at our iPads and cooking, I would engage Ben in a discussion about our comfort zones. Here is one snippet, which again reminds me of what I learn from someone 5 years younger.

Me: Ben, do you ever struggle to get out of your comfort zone?

Ben: I don’t think I understand the question.

Me: Do you ever force yourself to do things you don’t feel that comfortable with when there is something easier you could do instead? For example, we could have made spaghetti and meatballs, but instead, we are making some fancy French dish that we can’t even pronounce.

Ben: Oh, the way I would say it is, “Do you ever go for broke on your second serve?” In other words, I have a safe serve that lands in the service box but wins me no points. I have a spin serve that lands in for me maybe 40 percent of the time but is a weapon. Which do I choose? Safe or something exciting but might also fail?

Me: That is a very good way of taking my words and translating them into “Ben-speak.” So what’s your answer?

Ben: I always go for broke. Otherwise, how will I get better? Not to get too technical, but with the spin serve, I do better when the ball is tossed in the 12 o’clock position, and I make sure to have a continental grip. That probably ups my odds by another 10 percent. I’ve learned something by “getting out of my comfort zone” to use Hannah-speak.

Me: Wow, we are so different. Maybe I went for broke when I did Popposites. I mean… I didn’t know I could write a play, let alone direct it. But most of the time — like with tonight’s menu — I’d rather go safe.

Ben: I think we all have moments where we stretch ourselves and others where we play it safe. But in the case of my sister Hannah who is smart and does well at almost everything, I think you could take more chances. But don’t go big on a second serve because, honestly, you don’t even have a first serve yet.

Me: That was mostly kind of you, and I am going to choose to remember your words — “smart and does well at almost everything.”

Dinner went fine — maybe even better than fine. My dad was super happy. Lucy seemed to appreciate Ben’s and my effort. We were exhausted, and I can’t even tell you how it tasted because I was too tired to eat much. At the end of the evening, Lucy gave us a compliment — well, kind of.

“I think I need to treat you with more respect. You’re not just two young kids visiting your dad for the summer. You seem able to do a lot, and you are also interesting. So thank you for tonight’s dinner. I look at it as a warm-up act for when I turn 40.”

Ben and I looked at each other, and I was sure we were thinking the same thing. We were not signing up for a bigger splash for her 40th. I found her expression of gratitude underwhelming. Ben said,

“That was the worst thank you I think I’ve ever heard.”

And because all of life’s stories are simply teaching moments made more interesting, I have learned something in this epic experience of helping my dad celebrate his girlfriend’s 38th birthday. In list form, I learned (or reminded myself) that:

1. It’s not all about me, and it’s becoming less about me every day.

2. Ben is a sibling for life, but even better, a friend with a wise voice. We are different in a good way.

3. It’s okay, and maybe even preferable to get out of my comfort zone. Now I know that I can make coq au vin if we ever need to. I said “we” because I hope Ben would be near me if the occasion arose.

4. Writing continues to be my way of making sense of things — the wacky summer, comfort zones, Lucy, honesty, ego — you name it. Thank God for my love of words.

I thought of Alfred because he spent the entire school year getting out of his comfort zone. He would use his “5 tools” to manage the stress of a good stretch, but he did it. He became my narrator, culture builder, and even dancer for Popposites, and he wanted none of it. He did it all well, too — except for the dancing.

I think my new goal will be to expand my comfort zone. I’ll think “coq au vin,” and I’ll know what to do.

Ben, are you there?