I’m not good with heights. I definitely didn’t want to climb out of my comfort zone. So, I just said no when all my friends told me that I would have to climb Luna, the 200-foot redwood that Julia “Butterfly” Hill—whose book I had been hired to ghostwrite—was living in.
The year was 1999 and she’d been in the tree for more than a year. I’d been in San Franciso for a matter of months and the book, The Legacy of Luna, which would become a national bestseller, was due in ten weeks. That was terrifying enough. I didn’t need any additional adrenaline rushes.
“You have to climb the tree,” my editor and oldest friend said.
“You didn’t,” I countered.
Case closed. Or almost.
“I’d rather you didn’t climb the tree,” my dad said.
“Hmm. Maybe I could climb Luna,” I thought.
And, after a lot of hesitation and being told that I would need to be rescued if I changed my mind halfway up, I did. That should have alerted me that I wasn’t going to be able to get down the same way I’d gone. I wouldn’t figure that out the sun had started to set, and it was time to leave.
“You’re going to jump off the platform and repel down,” Julia said, handing me the rope.
“Are you kidding me?” I wanted to scream.
Instead, I just did what I was told. In hindsight, I’m sure glad I pushed out of my comfort zone.
Have you stretched the boundary on your comfort zone? I’d love to know more.
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