To Retreat Or Persevere

See these people? They are some of the band members I play music with each Sunday morning.

But they are also my anchor. When I make the hard drive back home after being out of town visiting family, my nostalgic sadness is eased by remembering I have another family to come home to. They welcome me. They make me laugh. They bring me back to reality when life gets too overwhelming for me to think rationally.
 

Several years ago, I had contemplated quitting the band. I had come straight from a small country church where I played hymns on a piano every Sunday, to a much larger church, surrounded by people I didn't know, attempting to play in a band when I had never played with other instruments before or even seen a chord chart. I was overwhelmed and felt awkward. I was far out of my comfort zone. And the anxiety it caused me almost convinced me to quit, to decide that it just wasn't for me, to admit I had tried, but perhaps it was better for me to just sit in the crowd. I might never be capable of what they were doing. Plus, I might never fit in.
 
For whatever reason, I held on a little longer. And a little longer. And gradually, without my awareness that it was happening, it got easier. I started learning. I became more familiar with the music and the people. My self-doubt stretched slowly into self-confidence and comfort with who I am. I made friends.
   
This is the memory I look back on now, every time I face situations that fling me outside my comfort zone:
  
new job duties, 

new friendships, 

new musical challenges, 

sharing pieces I've written, 

attempting brand new goals, or

letting people close enough to know who I really am.

I struggle with venturing into unfamiliar territory. I don't despise or avoid it---but I struggle. That feeling of vulnerability often leaves me shaking, queasy, tearful, suddenly overwhelmed by memories I wish to forget, or longing to seclude myself in a quiet sanctuary of safety.
 

Whenever I feel

overwhelmed and uncomfortable,
  
vulnerable and unmasked,

I try to remember how my early experiences with our band almost led me to give up. Yet something kept prodding me forward---Just give it one more rehearsal, one more Sunday, get through one song at a time...
     
And I attempt to guide myself even now,
step by tiny step:

Just get to that meeting you're supposed to direct.
Just make that hard walk on stage where you're supposed to lead music and talk to the crowd.
Just get in the car and drive to that dinner with all those people you don't know. 
Take just that step, then figure out the next one when you get there.

I don't always conquer the tumultuous emotions that surface when I find myself outside my safe little box of security. But I must strive to persevere, and if nothing else, not allow those emotions to rule me. I must go ahead and do the new thing feeling frightened, shaking, sweating, even crying or throwing up later.

But, nonetheless, still persevering.

Do you struggle when you find yourself outside of your comfort zone?
Do you retreat? Or push your way through it?