Chapped lips and all

On the last day of my trip to Seattle last month, I woke up to lots of rain and wind. It was a downright blustery morning. Sidenote: Why did I think that word was “blistery” for the past 45 years? And why did I never think to question it? Ew. 

So, it was blistery blustery (still getting used to it), and all I wanted to do was put on my sweats, make a cup of tea, curl up on the couch next to the big windows, and read my book while enjoying the storm from inside my cozy Airbnb. This is pretty much my dream scenario in life. Add my cat curled up next to me, and we’ve hit a bliss-level situation.

The only snag in my bliss plan was that my partner had booked a walking tour for later that morning. I was so hoping it was cancelled, but when we looked at the confirmation email, it said “tour happens rain or shine.” Of course, this was Seattle. A little rain wasn’t going to stop things. Damn it!

I could have chosen not to go, but the reservations were already made, my partner was determined to go no matter what, and I have FOMO. So I decided to pull up my big girl fleece pants, add 2,309 more layers, brave the weather, and go outside amongst the cold and the other humans.

We were staying downtown so we could walk to lots of things. It took us about 20 minutes to get to the meeting place for the walking tour. It was too windy for an umbrella, so by the time we got there, we were already pretty wet. We were the first ones there, and I was sure we would be the only ones. Surely, everyone else would be curled up on their couch with tea and a book and possibly a cat—living the good life.

But no! People started showing up. In fact, every single person who reserved a spot for the walking tour arrived rosy-cheeked, soaking wet, chapped-lipped, and excited to learn more about Seattle. Humans are fascinating.

Our guide was a lively, animated, and smiley woman who was a great storyteller, and seemed totally unbothered by the weather. We learned a lot about the history of Seattle, we saw cool things, we laughed, and at one point, as we were standing in front of Pike Place Market, the sun peeked out from all the clouds and made a three-minute appearance. I positioned my face towards the sun, closed my eyes, and couldn’t help but smile. That was the moment I was reminded why it’s important to get off the couch and engage with life, even if the couch is really damn blissful.

Because experiencing the outside world fills us up, even when it’s uncomfortable.

To live a full and rich life means getting out of your comfort zone and doing things you have to push yourself to do.

Go on the trip.
Take the walk.
Leave your house.
Get rained on.
Say yes to the thing.
Fall down (kidding—don’t fall down).
Go to the class.
Make mistakes.
Build the project.
Get on stage.
Be embarrassed.
Meet new people.
Dance.
Choose a partner who loves adventures.
Try new things.
Get dirty.
Live. Your. Life.

Your couch will be there for you when you return.

Don’t let comfort keep your world small. I almost stayed inside that morning in Seattle, and yes, I would have been warm, dry, and extra cozy. But I would have missed the stories, the transfer of knowledge, the delight of other humans, the laughter, the surprise cameo of sunshine on my face. I would have missed a little piece of my life being truly lived, not just passing by. And that is always worth getting off the couch for.

Have a beautiful weekend, my friend. Go do some living.

Molly