“We are living progressively sheltered, sterile, temperature-controlled, over-fed, under-challenged, safety-netted lives” Michael Easter (Author of The Comfort Crisis).
When I was a girl, growing up in the late 70s/early 80s, I used to walk the 2 miles to school every day, there and back, on my own, in all weathers.
If I was too chatty whilst I was there, (always my problem) I got the ruler across the back of my hand.
The more sadistic the teacher, the harder the whack I received.
We girls got off lightly – the boys had to queue outside the headmaster’s office to get the slipper, if they misbehaved.
At home, I was the one who had to get up to make the drinks and turn the TV on, off or over.
There were only 3 channels to choose from then, and as I was the youngest child (ahem slave) of the family, I was the remote control.
I used to have to make my bed, keep my (shared) bedroom tidy and do all of my allotted chores every week.
This was generally washing the dishes every night and helping my Mum with all the laundry.
There were no dishwashers, tumble-dryers or automatic washing machines back then; we had a dolly twin-tub, so the washing for a family of 5 took hours.
If I didn’t do my chores, I didn’t get my pocket money (50p a week initially).
They were the rules, and they were very strictly enforced.
From the age of 11, I had a Saturday and holiday job.
I inherited this from my older sister.
From that point on, I bought all my own clothes and toiletries.
We were given 3 home-cooked meals a day with nothing in between.
The only takeaway was the chippy.
There were never any crisps, snacks or pop in the house.
My Mum used to buy one bottle of Vimto and one packet of biscuits per week – for a family of 5!
If I was really starving between meals, I was offered an apple or a tangerine (if they were in season) – never any other kind of fruit or snack.
Nothing was fat-free; sugar free, gluten-free or dairy-free and nobody was overweight or had any allergies of any kind.
If I wanted to speak to someone, I went to see them, wrote them a letter (I had a pen friend) or rang them on the telephone attached to the wall (at least we had a telephone attached to the wall – many others had to go to the phone box on the corner).
My friends were all real friends that I actually hung around and played skipping, hopscotch and clackers with.
At the weekend and in the school holidays (when I wasn’t working), I would stay out ALL day riding my bike (helmet-free), playing hide-and-seek and making dens in the woods.
I would come home filthy every night.
My Mum and Dad were both at work and had no idea where I was or who I was with.
As long as I came home every night, once the street lights came on, all was ok.
We only had a bath on a Sunday night (listening to the Top 40 on a little transistor radio) to get ready for school the next day.
All 3 children jumped in the same bath water, one after the other.
This went in strict age order, so I was always last – ugh!
The rest of the week we just got washed with soap and a flannel.
Nobody had even heard of showers in those days.
My Irish granddad used to send me to the shop on my own to buy his Park Drive cigarettes (aged 9).
He always used to say, with a twinkle in his eye, “keep the change” – there was never any change!
I didn’t know anything about microwaves, mobile phones, computers or Google.
Google was the Encyclopaedia Britannica back then.
Am I complaining?
No, not at all – in many ways, I had a wonderful childhood.
We were loved and looked after.
We had a car, central heating and a holiday to Wales or Ireland every summer – we were posh! 🙂
How times have changed.
In lots of ways, things were far less comfortable back then than they are today, but we didn’t know any different.
The war years weren’t that far behind in the distance, so we thought we were lucky by comparison.
The way we grew up back then gave us resilience, independence and great immune systems.
Now nobody loves their hair straighteners, mobile phone and internet more than I do.
BUT I’m so pleased I grew up then rather than now.
My kids both wish they’d grown up in a non-social media world too.
The era of no bike-helmets, no seatbelts and smoking/Guinness-drinking Mothers…it’s a wonder any of us survived!
But sometimes a little discomfort is a wonderful thing.
We have to tear a muscle to build a muscle.
How can we ever know what our limits are if we never test them?
If we always want everything to go right, how will we ever cope when things suddenly go wrong (which they inevitably will sometimes)?
The teenagers of today have more materially than any other previous generation before them.
But they also have more anxiety, more fear and more mental health issues.
They have their phones permanently stuck to their hand, but yet are too socially anxious to call and book a table or make a doctor’s appointment.
They have the most unbelievably vast array of different foods to choose from, but have more allergies than we’ve ever known.
I still can’t get my head around the fact that some people are so allergic to something as innocuous as a peanut, that merely touching one can cause death.
It’s terrifying.
Every single type of takeaway food is available at the touch of a screen, but as a consequence, our young people suffer more with obesity than any other generation before them.
As parents we’ve stimulated our children to such an extent since they were conceived (yes conceived – I played classical music to my children in the womb as someone once told me that would make me birth a genius!) but now they can’t be bored for a single second without reaching for their phone/game/stimulation/next dopamine hit.
Our children are struggling to survive in the world that we’ve created for them.
That’s just surviving; we’re not talking about thriving here…
I’ve worked with lots and lots of young people – many of them had little resilience or mental strength of any kind.
They were anxious, overwhelmed and scared, bless them.
It’s really not their fault – it’s all a result of the comfort crisis, and it’s all very worrying.
I’m not trying to judge or preach here.
For most of my life I’ve been addicted to comfort too.
I STILL Love ALL things comfort.
Comfortable clothes, people, places and things.
BUT comfort has to be balanced with resilience and discomfort too.
These days, I like to push myself sometimes, just to see what I’m made of 🙂
Most Lovelies adore comfort, just like I do.
It’s inherent in our nature.
BUT I have to say; the times in my life when I’ve been prepared to be the most uncomfortable are the times when I’ve grown the most.
I don’t believe there’s any growth without some discomfort.
They’re called growing pains for a reason 🙂
The magic really does happen outside our comfort zones.
It’s a cliché, but it’s true.
It’s where we learn the most.
I truly believe that if we stay firmly encased in our comfort bubbles, we’ll live a safe, but fairly boring life and we’ll NEVER discover our true potential.
Sure, it’s uncomfortable outside our comfort zone, but we won’t die.
If we are to thrive, life must be a series of leaps of faith.
Have an idea, do your due diligence and then take inspired action…even though it will be uncomfortable.
This is how we grow to fulfil our potential and find our true happiness.
Every (uncomfortable) leap I’ve ever taken has paid off exponentially for me…every single one.
No matter how much my knees were knocking at the time, I did it 🙂
The way to do it, so it doesn’t feel excruciatingly uncomfortable, is to do it with a guide who will hold your hand whilst you leap.
Someone who’s just one or two steps ahead of you.
Sometimes, if we don’t take the leap, God/The Universe/Life will do it for us…pushing us off the cliff and out of our comfort bubbles.
Sudden redundancy, heartbreak, a serious illness etc…
I believe everything happens for a reason.
Something greater than ourselves is course-correcting all of our lives and putting us on the path we’re meant to be on.
Is it time for you to get comfortable with being uncomfortable?
Then book a call.
Much Love
Not-so-comfortable-anymore Christina xx