How this is all gonna go down: The Rules of RCT/AD

So, great. My goal is to get better at being uncomfortable. Why, again? Any growing experience has some degree of discomfort or pain to it. You're either exploring your existing boundaries (think stretching, yoga) or expanding your boundaries (think cardio and weight training). As my dad the Marine says, "Pain is weakness leaving the body." And, of course, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." (Yeah, he said that before Kelly Clarkson ever thought about singing it.) As Alanis said, "Ever unfolding, ever expanding, ever adventurous and torturous." That's going to be my mantra: the world, life generally, and I are naturally dynamic, changing elements. Growing and changing hurts. But it's a hurt you need, because if you're not growing, you're stagnating. Think filthy, slimy, gutter water that never makes it to the drain. It's just stuffed full of crap, garbage, mosquito eggs, dead junk, and who knows what all. It doesn't do anyone any good. It just sits there, stinking up the place and breeding disease. If it had feelings, it would probably be ragingly depressed. I imagine something similar goes on in the stagnant soul. We weren't born to just exist, we were born to learn, grow, thrive, explore, make mistakes, and live.

Life is messy. How many more trite sayings could I use? A lot. You get the idea.

So, to make sure I'm growing, and to work on my perfectionism and natural terror of trying new things, I'm setting a few goals:

1. I'm going to do at least one hard or uncomfortable thing every week. It will be best if I think it through and plan it out in advance so as not to be lazy and just say, "Oh, that was kinda hard, that'll be my thing for the week." Mindful progress is what gets results. I'll track my progress and experiences here on my pretty new blog. This thing is going to be a squashed, scribbled in, cherished journal of a blog by the time I'm done.
2. In addition to planning and recording my experiences, I'm going to be recording my thoughts and research as I go through the next year. I already have a lot of fun topics to write about. Seriously, you should see my cramped, excessive notes. Lots of lists, bullet points, and arrows all over the place. Actual blog entries will be readable. Expect more personal experiences from the life of a recovering terrified perfectionist.

Ok, cool. Do something hard or uncomfortable every week. That sounds dangerously close to what Jim Carrey was doing in Yes Man. Don't get me wrong, I love the idea behind that movie (for those of you who haven't seen it *yet*, the premise is that a life coach/guru forces Carrey's character into a sacred covenant with the universe where he has to say yes to every opportunity that he encounters) because we too often get in the habit of saying no to everything, either out of fear or laziness or whatever, and miss out on a lot of amazing stuff. But there are some dicey things that could come my way (for those of you who've seen the movie, I bet you can name at least one thing that what's-his-face probably should have declined) that I'd rather avoid doing, out of a personal interest of staying safe, legal, and moral. Growth should be challenging, but it should also be responsible. Hence...

The Rules of Roller Coaster Therapy and Applied Discomfort (RCT/AD):

1. Do no harm to self or others.
2. Stay within your personal morals/values system.
3. Not all discomfort is good. Guilt is bad. A hunch, "bad feeling," or God warning you away from something should be heeded. (But be honest to ensure you're not just giving yourself an excuse.)
4. Use common sense. Do research. Be logical and reasonable.
5. Push yourself.
6. Forgive yourself.
7. Forgive others.
5. Just because you have the courage to try something new doesn't necessarily mean you'll be good at it. If you legitimately have no talent in a particular area, accept it and don't subject others to your attempts, it's mean. This goes along with #4. Common sense. Think: You want to play the piano for your church congregation because the idea of doing so terrifies you. So you take lessons and you try really hard, but you have no rhythm or musical ability. Keep playing on your own if you enjoy it and congratulate yourself on working to expand and cultivate the landscape of your mind and talents, but you should call off the whole playing for a church congregation idea. (see #1. Do no harm to others. Winky-face.)

My nine-month-old daughter is awake and destroying my notes and being generally too adorable to resist, so that's all for now. Next time, more on the mechanics of RCT. I'll share a brief history of my long-standing and paralyzing roller coaster phobia (and how it subsequently destroyed every other aspect of my family, social, emotional, and mental well-being...please tell me you are reading that with some sarcasm...but just a tiny bit), how I smacked myself upside the head to stop myself being so ridiculous, as well as the desired "zen" outcome of RCT. You're gonna want to hurry up and book your summer trips to Busch Gardens and Six Flags*, everybody.

*unofficial and uncompensated endorsement. Although I'd be cool if anyone were to contact Busch Gardens and/or Six Flags to tell them they owe me money. I'll go halfsies with anyone who does.