Since embarking on a month of expanding my social horizons, I’ve noticed how incredibly good at excuses I am. Excuses for not pushing myself, that is. For not going and talking to this or that person. For not going to a gym class instead of going for a run on my own. For not going and trying something new that’s just out of my comfort zone and might result in connecting with somebody new.
My old excuse was ‘that’s scary’. I’ve banned that from my current vocabulary, but my fear is nothing if not creative, and appears to be expert at presenting me with perfectly logical and practical reasons for not facing that next challenge.
I can’t go to that spin class because my physio wants me to try a 5 min run at some point and I’d planned to do that tonight. Oh dear, and that class is fully booked. There’s another one? Ooh, it’s a bit later than I’d wanted…
Fear is wily and tricksy. It tries to masquerade as practicality and convenience. But I’m on to it. I’m getting quite wily myself these days. I have a new slight of hand to baffle the fear; I now fear not challenging myself instead. Fear be warned – I’ve got your number!