Just turned twenty-eight.  Wooohooo.  Blow the kazoo, I’m one step closer to 30!

From the get-go of this year, I sensed God saying that this was the year I’d face my fears. 

Uh oh. 

You see, I had this sudden twenty-eight-year-old epiphany.  I’m not fully living.

Why not?  I’m scared to.

I’m confined–or rather, I confine myself–to a handful of places (all pre-screened of course).  Anywhere I feel safe.

But I’ve never been a “stay-at-home, play-it-safe” kinda girl.  Or rather, I wasn’t.  This is a recent development.

Growing up, I was an adventurer at heart!  Amelia Earhart was my favorite heroine.  I relished the joy of discovery–in my backyard, with new friends, learning new ideas.  With people, I boldly trusted often and many.  People mocked my open-eyed wonder and idealistic view of life, but I was ummoved.  I had no reason to question the beauty of our world.

I’ve been an explorer throughout my life.  As a child, my family jet-setted us around the country.  Then in college, I studied abroad, trekking across a near-dozen European countries, and later spent time in South Africa on a missions trip.  After graduation, I spent a semester at a leadership institute in Colorado Springs, then took a three-week roadtrip across the country before settling “home” in Florida for a few years.  Next came a dramatic move to Atlanta, and ultimately I landed here in Austin, Texas.

I loved all of it–the adventures, up and downs, sleeping in airports, planes-trains-automobiles, crazy experiences and had-to-be-there moments.

While abroad, I learned something fascinating.  In life, there are two types of people: Travelers and Tourists.  We can learn a lesson from both.

Tourists are focused on checklists, efficiency, tour guides and buses.  They can’t fathom wasting precious travel time on an unplanned detour.  They want to somehow control the process of discovery and, thus, miss the very essence of traveling.  Yes, they saw The Pietà and walked the Great Wall of China, but they did so at the expense of the journey–being immersed in a new world, interacting with people not-unlike-themselves.

Au contraire, Travelers linger in each place they visit, taking in the sights/sounds/tastes/funny people/and quirky charm of each destination.  They chill at a cafe instead of standing in line for the Eiffel Tower.  They allow the journey to lead them down unexpected paths–and don’t try to mold their experience to some guidebook.

Okay, you’re wondering, What do Travelers and Tourists have to do with “playing it safe”?

Everything!

With each new place I visited, my world got bigger.  My travels forced me outside my American mentality and broadened horizons.  Suddenly my world exploded in size.  I know, cliche right?  But true!

We must leave our tiny towns to realize how big our world is and appreciate that as fellow people, we’re “all in this together”, regardless of our locale.

When we stay in the smallness of our worlds, we can forget others living with much deeper needs than ours or who are plodding the same path we are.

Living small makes us small.  We lose sight of new ways of living and think our culture has the best and only way.  Hah!  🙂 We should try a Spanish siesta for a change-of-pace or lounge in restaurants for 3 to 4 hours like the French do.  Maybe we should visit Hong Kong’s brightly-lit grittiness or encounter the third-world-country reality.

I believe our borders are much too small.  And sadly, in my own life, I’ve forgotten these lessons. 

I’ve lost sight of our big world–allowed fear to thrive and squeeze out my adventurous spirit.  I’ve started living dangerously small–don’t-leave-the-house, don’t-talk-to-people-everyday, worry-about-our-cushy-5-figure-income small.

I’ve gotten–comfortable.  I’ve stopped taking risks.  I’ve stopped putting myself out there.  I’ve started hiding in my comfort zone, fearing newness and settling into (say it ain’t so!) routines.  (For Adventurers at heart, routine is a four-letter word!)

“So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future.

The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day, to have a new and different sun.”

-Chris McCandless, “Into the Wild”

When did I become like this?

I’ve become a shell of myself.  I’m not connecting with people anymore.  And in marriage, I’m reaching a wall–the wall built with my two hands.  The wall of isolation, the one I erected (funny word 🙂 to keep others at bay.

And it’s working.

No one knows the hurt I carry except my (sweet) (overwhelmed) (strong/brave) hubby.  He witnesses the meltdowns, the fear-filled accusations hurled his way, the trepidation and caution with which I approach new people now.

Apparently somewhere along the way, my heart decided it’d had enough.  People were ‘all the same’, more or less, and relationships were painful.  People weren’t who they said they were–didn’t stick around like they promised–took without apology or retribution–didn’t care, wrapped up in their own worlds (me included).

In short, people were people.

So I stopped journeying out of my comfort zone, embracing new places and people and experiences, investing in new relationships.  I maintained old ones, yes, but tentatively.  And you-better-believe I cut off any decidedly crappy friends.

My pastor called me out recently, exposing a false belief I didn’t even know I had.  He recognized my need for Control in my life today, saying my strict religious upbringing (wonderful in ways, very controlled in others) gave me a sense of security with its high level of “Controls”.  When I ventured beyond these in college and got hurt, I re-implemented serious Controls to make sure that never happened again.  Some call this legalism.  I like to call it being religulous 🙂

I convinced myself that controlling my world would keep me safe–so I made sure nothing threatened my security again.  This required a major adjustment to my adventure-loving lifestyle.

I began avoiding risky adventures with the same gusto I once pursued them.  I stopped revisiting any place I’d been scarred, especially Big Bad Scary Places like bars/clubs, parties, and anywhere with free-flowing alcohol and undisciplined men [wisely so, I’ll add].  This spilled over into an avoidance of certain sections of town… then being around people who reminded me of so-and-so… then eventually anywhere–in large part–outside of God’s house (not entirely safe either, as there are humans in there!).

I thought this was the answer to pain–avoid crazy adventures, people and places, and be content staying right where you’re at.

So I went into hiding.

I’ve hidden in judgment (certainly), religiousness/spiritual activity, and–most alarming to me because I wasn’t aware til marriage–denying reality.

But withdrawing isn’t the answer.  It can’t be.  God says ‘Go into all the world’, something my younger self said YES! to without question.  Every time I withdraw, I squelch who I really am: that excited traveler who relishes each new discovery made.

My tiny, fear-based, me-centered world is miserable.  But where can I go?  How can I be safe out there?  Lions.  Tigers.  Bears!

But when I’m old, do I want to say I lived “free from harm”, avoiding every imperfection/sin in others (and thus pain)?  Each tempting scenario and uncontrollable situation?

No.  Never.

So I can’t stay here anymore.  I must conquer this debilitating fear or risk traveling the landscape of my life like a Tourist: full of checklists, ‘to-dos’, rigid rules and especially “Thou shalt nots”.  I’ll be so focused on controlling my life that I’ll miss the beautiful journey altogether. 

And I think that would be the saddest sin of all.  To live small.

So how do I break myself free from this “prison” of one?  And how will you?