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Our Comfort Zone
Copyright 2005 Bridget Nolen
On my second trip to San Francisco I bought a light green
vintage t-shirt that said I wish you were here. I didnt
even think twice about buying it. I didnt try it on. I
didnt look at the price tag. As I packed for my third trip
I made sure it was folded neatly in my bag. Unlike every
article of clothing that I questioned the necessity of as I
attempted to downsize my luggage, this I packed without
hesitation. This was my third trip to SanFransisco. The
first time was with an old boyfriend when we were 21. The
second time was just about eight months ago with a close
friend.
This time I was visiting a friend from college, Holly, who
was transferred here from New York and was only on her
seventh week of residence in the Marina section of
SanFransisco. Holly, without exception, is a handful of
peoples favorite person. She is naturally beautiful,
equally inside and out, both fashionable in her
introspective opinions and her ability to make simple style
look genuine and sheek. By all standards, Holly is that
girl that everyone can define by one word, cool. I was
drawn to her in college because of how outwardly different
and inwardly similar we are. Like me she is down to earth,
patient, low maintenance, strong, and reflective. Unlike me
she is what her mother calls her independent daughter.
She is random in that she has a collection of friends that
she has maintained through different ages and stages in her
life that are very different from each other yet united by
one very important and common love: Holly. I too feel
successful about the variety and amount of relationships I
have maintained over the years. The difference being that
those people that are of a different age or at a different
stage then me that I have remained close with are just not
the people I call up on a Saturday night to see what they
are doing. Holly does. Holly takes risks, embraces
opportunity, and follows her heart. When she begins to feel
comfortable with a certain place or a certain group of
peopleshe makes a CHANGE. To her, there is not comfort in
a comfort zone, there is danger. Danger in becoming closed
mind to different types of people and different kinds of
chances. Danger in staying still, in doing nothing, she
thinks that takes no courage at all.
So SanFransisco, at this moment in time, is clearly the
place for her. When I first arrived her small apartment was
crowded with a few people who never met each other. They
were all very different from one another, from their
religion to race to sexual orientation to political
affiliations. They truly embraced each others company
immediately, curious about what the other did and loved,
excited at the prospect of spending the entire night with
brand new people. At first, I was a bit uncomfortable. Back
home in Philadelphia the incidences of us having a get
together with people that not only dont know each other,
but dont know each other well are few and far between. The
chance that I would walk into a party (as I did on this
day) and someone would ask me what I am passionate about is
extremely slim. For the first few moments of listening to
these strangers converse and openly reflect on their
feelings about their lives I started to feel bad about the
fact that our conversations at home tend to center around
whether to go to Kildares or the U.S. Hotel. But I quickly
realized that we dont spend as much time on these
conversations because we usually know the answers, the
people at my parties are usually my best friends. In many
ways we look the same, act the same, and love the same
things. So begins my process of trying to figure out
whether this is a good thingor a bad thing
As we (the strangers and I) left Hollys one room apartment
to head out to the bars, I commented how these living
arrangements are in stark contrast to our at home. If you
live alone in various parts of our city I assume its
because you have an exceptionally good job or you dont
have that many friends. We live in big old houses with
close friends right down the street from all our other
close friends. There are exceptions of course, our friends
that have chosen to buy houses in places that are more
affordable like New Jersey or the suburbs, our friends that
have chosen to get married earlier and have committed to a
lifestyle of going out to dinner with their couple
friends, having a glass of wine and coming home (that was a
jokekind of), our friends that have happily left the
circle of people that at times can feel suffocating,
monotonous, and dramatic. So of course the lifestyle I am
about to explain is not representative of all the people my
age that live in Philadelphia. But for the most part, the
Californians were surprised to hear how many people our age
freely choose our lifestyle. I would come to find out, that
I was equally surprised to see how many people freely chose
theirs.
In Philadelphia we hardly leave our comfort zones. In our
viewwhy the hell would wewe are very comfortable there
(oh, and they hardly curse in California...another
difference. They remarked on the cursing as much as they
made me say words like bad, water, and towel over and
over again). Our circles of friends and acquaintances are
filled almost entirely with people from the Philadelphia
area. It is friends from high school; friends from college,
old boyfriends, friends from the shore, friends of our
families, friends of our friends. When you meet someone new
in your life, the chances are that they are already in
someway connected with someone old. It is the familiar
faces that you see in the same few bars on Main Street in
Manayunk, and the same bar on Dune Drive in Avalon. The
entire circle moves from their houses in Manayunk in the
winter to their houses on Twenty-first street in the summer
(Ive been saying one last summer since I was twenty
threeat twenty seven Ive given it up). We move in herds.
We congregate in circles. We live in groups. And even
pushing thirty this is yet to be uncommon, its quite the
oppositestill very desirable.
Theres a shirt that they sell in the bar in Avalon that
says When I grow up I am going to go the Princeton just
like my mommy and daddy did. If we continue on this path,
although laughable, purchasing this shirt at some point is
looking more and more likely. I thought of this shirt when
one of the California people asked me about the dating
scene in Philadelphia. I had to laugh at how my dates
consist of going out with the same ten people to the same
places and then seeing what happens at three in the
morning. Its very difficult when you are caught up in a
group of people to ever choose people and places outside
your comfort zone. Its like groundhogs day...the same day
over and over again. It can be frustrating, it can also be
comforting. Although at times it feels lonely, it will
never allow you to be alone. After many conversations with
single friends in this situation we all agree that our
future husbands and wives might not be residing in our
present comfort zone not for lack of effort either. There
is some point when I guess you let go of the fairytale
notion that we all will just grow up and marry each other
and live on the same street forever happily ever after.
While I cant say I have completely let go of that fantasy,
we all recognize the need to get out there morewe just
dont want to.
So if you are actively looking for your soul mate, if you
believe there is only one person you are meant to be with,
you may think the chances are slim that he just happens to
coincidentally be the guy that lives down the street in
Manayunk or the one that stands in your corner at the
Princeton. If youre looking to meet new people, start
over, get a second chance, then move to SanFransisco. Its
a place of new beginnings. Now you wont find a shirt there
like the one at the Princeton. No one stays long enough to
establish a corner of the bar. The majority of people I
met in SanFransisco were transplanted there, and they
actually call themselves that transplants. They have
made their friends through the jobs they moved out here for
and by being set up by friends of friends who knew someone
out here. They are less likely to belong to a group of
friends and more likely to have a collection of different
people that seem to me quite random and to them quite
diverse. I was so interested in all their stories, how
they got here, how long they want to stay, what theyll do
next. Most of them moved because of a job or because they
wanted a change of scene, or they are simply bored by their
lives. Many of them were afraid of being stuck somewhere
without actually living their life or allowing anything new
to happen to them. When I have this fear, my first instinct
in to move also. But I dont. When asking them how long
they will stay most of them said they were unsure, maybe a
year or two. I couldnt help but wonder, Are you happy
here? Why do you only predict youll only stay for such a
short period of time? I kept thinking, Where is home to
you? As we drank more I felt brave enough to ask this
question of them (since they asked what I was passionate
about within minutes of my arrivalI felt I had the right
to get a bit personal). Oddly enough most of them cited
home as the place they originally came from. Again I
couldnt help but think, Then why are you running away? I
have come to understand though through keeping friendships
like Hollys and having a brother who took up traveling as
soon as he was old enough, that its not that they are
running away its just that they are more comfortable
running. I assume they find home in pursing their passion
or constant change or a variety of things. Or maybe they
are not in pursuit of home at all or just dont feel the
need to be located there.
I see home in the route I drive to work from Manayunk to
Devon even though its the Schuylkill and there arent
mountains and oceans in the background. I see it in my
parents eyes and the smell of Havertown in the fall. I see
it in the way the air changes as you drive over the bridge
to the shore and everything in that moment seems right with
world. I see it when a friend from high school smiles
across the bar, or we tease other in our group of friends
not because we are tired of each other but because we just
know each other so well. I feel it as the seasons change. I
feel it when I drink too much but am not worried that Id
be left alone because I am surrounded by people that have
known me well and love me for who I was, who I am, and who
I will be. When I am away from this for too long I have
this overwhelming homesickness. I enjoy traveling,
especially to San Francisco. But as I walked the hills,
admired the architecture and the view that seemed to linger
forever, as I walked into places that were often just as
foreign to me as the people I was with, I thought of all
those people that are home to me, I looked down at my
t-shirt and couldnt help but think, I wish you were
here.
As my trip continued I learned even more about the culture
of life here in SanFransisco and was able to remain open
minded about the pros and cons. What they have provided for
each other is a new beginning. They are unable to judge
each other on their pasts but they are also unable to be
forgiving because of them. They are able to be more
understanding and accepting of the person you are not but
less likely to understand the person you are. They are not
suspicious of new people or exclusive in whom they invite
on a night out or a weekend away, but they lack the
mentality of a group of friends that is well established
and close knit. There is something about the lure of a new
beginning, just as there is something beyond compare about
an old friend. It all depends on what you need to be happy.
And for the most part, although everyone has a story, they
all appeared very happy in their new setting. They took so
many pictures of so many people on so many trips, I called
these activity weekends in which they would spontaneously
go hiking in Northern California or boating in Sand Diego
or skiing in Tahoe. I couldnt help but feel jealous of the
money they must all make to maintain this lifestyle, and
how active they remain. I couldnt help but feel lazy and
guilty about the fact that on our weekendswe sit around
and drink. I couldnt help but feel proud of the fact that
most of my pictures, however minimal, although not all
photographs of beaches or ski slopes, contain images of my
closest friends and are snapshots of memories that are
significant to our lives in Philadelphia. To say that I
know all these people in my pictures seems like an
understatement until I came to California and realized how
little these people know each other in comparison. It was
obvious in the lack of inside jokes, or reminiscing, or the
back and forth banter that is characteristic of close
friends. I realize that I see safety in a comfort zone, I
see loyalty, and I see unconditional love. Safety,
predictable, comfort these are all words that I now
know prompt some people to RUN and others to STAY. Maybe we
can learn from each other.
As my trip winded down I was surprised to recognize that my
longing for home this time was as strong as my desire to
stay. While I was here I felt less burdened by the
conventions of our day to day life, my outlook seemed more
open minded, my thoughts more liberal, my goals more
reachable, my mind more free. I had decisions to make, and
I was able to do that out there. Maybe thats how you feel
on any vacation, but this seemed different somehow. I
learned a lot by exploring these two different but equally
enticing atmospheres. I definitely need to travel more.
When you leave your comfort zone, for any length of time,
there is still a lot of courage needed and learning
involved. Mine has been invaluable. What I know for sure is
that home certainly is, as they say, where the heart is.
Mine is in Philadelphia, nurtured and cared for by the
people that define my comfort zone. I imagine I will raise
children here one day whether or not I meet their father at
the Princeton. I imagine that if I move cross country one
day I would still need to be surrounded not only by people
I love but by the people I love the most. I imagine that
when I get home I will take a long walk on Main Street and
wear my t-shirt and think of Holly in her great new city.
I will think I wish you were here but I will know that
she is where she should be just as I am where I belonghome.
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Bridget Nolen is a twenty seven year old school teacher
who lines in Philadelphia, PA. She writes articles about
living and learning in your twenties. For comments about
this article, please respond to writ333@yahoo.com
More articles by Bridget Nolen - http://www.submityourarticle.com/articles/Bridget-Nolen-331/
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