Expanding My Comfort Zone

It’s Christmas Eve. The ocean was unusually calm this morning. I took my usual cup of coffee out on the beach before sunrise and walked along the water’s edge. There was barely any wind. The world had a gentleness and an ease about it.

I spotted a pod of dolphins and watched their majestic procession. I asked if they had any message for me. What I heard was, “Breathe freely. And do your thing.”

“My thing?” What is “my thing?”

I watched the sun rise above the horizon line and dazzle the water with its light. I noticed the deep shadows that complemented its radiance. And I wondered at the glory of privileges such as walking, breathing, hearing, seeing. Just being.

I needed to drive into Nags Head today for a few things and decided to make a day of it by veering off the path to see some different sights. I had ideas of places I wanted to explore but I had unformed ideas of what might be there. For me, the discovery is part of the fun. So, for example, at the base of the Marc Basnight Bridge, I had noticed a sign for a Pea Island Lifesaving Station. I decided to veer off to see if there was a spot where I could take a good photo of the bridge while not driving. It is an impressive structure, a testament to engineering ingenuity. I not only found an excellent photo opportunity but an opportunity to walk out into the middle of Oregon Inlet.

The Marc Basnight bridge replaces the Herbert C. Bonner Bridge, the last bit of which was finally demolished in May of 2021 — all except a bit that extends from the shore out into Oregon Inlet about a thousand feet. This is now used as a pier. I had read of this structure’s existence but hadn’t made the connection between its existence and the former lifesaving station where I’d chosen to veer off. I was beyond elated to happen upon it.

I secured my car keys and phone inside my shoulder bag, which I strapped
crosswise over my shoulder for extra stability. Because whenever I am
in a precarious place — on top of a mountain, on a pier or bridge over a
large body of water, even a small pier over a small body of water, I
have an irrational fear that some invisible hand is going to knock my
cell phone out of my hands as I’m taking a picture and it will sail
across the sky and into the abyss below never to be recovered. Or it
will magically reach into my bag, snatch my car keys and hurl them into
the abyss below never to be recovered. Or it will magically lift my body
and hurl it into the abyss below never to be recovered. It is an
irrational fear that is deeply rooted but it is not a debilitating one. I
am still able to enjoy myself while precariously perched. The fear adds
to the excitement.

After satisfying my urge to explore the former Bonner bridge, I proceeded to the Body Island lighthouse. Operational since October 1, 1872, this lighthouse was the third erected on this site. The first was built on an unstable foundation and ultimately torn down. The second was exploded during the Civil War. I think of lighthouses more as decorative structures, less as lifesaving ones. But especially in this area where sailing conditions are treacherous, lighthouses are a necessity.

I stood in awe of this structure as I imagined the history of its existence, the storms it endured, the people it saved.

After running my errands in Nags Head, there was one last place I wanted to explore. A very old-looking house is visible from my room and its vibe has been calling me. I decided to find the road that accesses the house so I could take some photos of it. Not only did I discover this road, but I learned that the interesting-looking house was part of a compound of other interesting-looking structures that were the Chicamacomico Lifesaving Station. The museum and gift shop were closed so I didn’t learn much about the history, just the dates posted on placards. But I wandered around the complex, finding all sorts of lovely angles and light for photos. I will definitely explore the history of this place.

The final bit of expanding my comfort zone occurred in the house where I am staying. I am renting a room. Yet I was told that I could take advantage of a full kitchen, lounge area and deck on the upper floor. So I went up there today and found all sorts of magic. I can spread out, when I allow myself to. And why not allow myself to?!

In a world where conditions are limiting and other people strive to keep you in check, I choose to expand beyond what is known and comfortable in the little ways that present themselves. This is often very challenging. For example: I wanted to leave Rodanthe after my car was repaired. But I’m very glad I was able to stay in that space of discomfort until it passed. I’m glad I stayed. I’ve given myself space to dump a lot of stress and allow my heart room to breathe freely. And this is what the dolphins said to do.

Also, “my thing” is growth. I will keep doing my thing.