HSPs Outside the Comfort Zone

One of the things that guided my life for more years than I’d care to admit is all the fears I carried around. So many of them I can hardly begin to name them here. You’ve got your basic environmental fears, like fear of bugs that fly, fear of bugs that crawl, fear of deep water, fear of falling, and fear of not being able to fall asleep. Then you’ve got the fears that actually have a basis in reality, like the time you almost drown or the time you woke up and a giant spider was on your face. Then you’ve got the emotional/psychological fears and phobias, the kind that you’ve developed over time based on how you grew up, what you were taught to think, believe, and be. And, finally, you’ve got the last kind: fears that have no real basis for being there (except past lifetime stuff). Like one of mine: Fear of the woods.

In overnight camp I did everything from feigning illness to begging to get out of camping in the woods. As a young married woman, I braved camping in the woods because my husband was such an enthusiast. I hated it. The next day I was bitten all over and I felt like I’d slept on a bed of rocks. Which I had.

For many years I’ve lived by the ocean, or at least near the water. Now I live where there’s plenty of water, but also lots and lots of forest. Like woods. Trees. Very tall trees. Very big forests.

I have hiked in the woods plenty of times, but each time takes me far outside my comfort zone. Usually the whole way there I’m regretting have agreed to go in the first place.

A few days ago, I had another such experience.

My sister is called the Tree Whisperer. She has studied trees, planted trees, loved trees, and even married a tree to prove her commitment to its health and wellbeing. She knows a heck of a  lot about tree communication, behavior, and why trees are so important to humanity. I love her love of trees.

Thing is, she’s always asking—and hoping—I’ll be willing to go along with her for a “short, easy walk in the woods.” Sometimes, because I’ve learned so much about being in alignment with my own energy, I say yes. Because the freaking out that used to start before I’d even left the house and that ramped up to a boiling point by the time I got to this “short, easy walk in the woods,” has become less and less severe over time. I have even been known to enjoy myself.

Still, I always want to know where I am and what the trail looks like and how simple it will be to find our way back. It’s easy to be reassured by my sister (or whomever I’m with) that “it’s only a loop. See here? It just goes around in a circle. No chance of getting lost.”

Yeah, right. Seems like once you’re in the woods, there are always, ALWAYS, chances to get lost. Forks in the path. Ways to go that weren’t on the map and aren’t clearly marked. Even if you have a phone with a compass app, it does no good. Why? Because you don’t know where you are. Hence, I have felt lost many times over in the woods. With my sister and with experienced hikers alike.

The woods

That’s what happened the other day. I said I’d go to Quinault Rain Forest, one of my sister’s favorite places. The map at the trail head is easy to read. There don’t seem to be any possible ways to go off-path. Looks just like a loop. I’m good to go.

So, Julie and I start on the path. We’re counting bridges to make sure we’re going in the right direction. Still, at one point, like always, there’s a divergence in the path—and no sign. I look at Julie. She looks at me. It’s this way, she says. Sure, I say, and how do you know that? She really doesn’t want me to be afraid. Because I know, she says. But you should use your IGS, anyway, just in case. Your intuition is pretty much spot on.

What? Use my IGS?

But, see, here’s the other thing. When I’m in the woods, I’m so far outside my comfort zone that I feel like my Intuitive Guidance System has blown a fuse. Hard to trust your IGS when it feels more like a demented compass on speed.

But Julie whipped out her phone and started to video me. A really a smart move, I agree. I went from “I’m so uncomfortable at the thought of going the wrong direction” to “Oh, you’re videoing me? I guess I’d better get into alignment.” Talk about the metaphorical journey of life, right? Trust and yee shall get to where you want to go.

And so I did.

We took the right path, ended up where we belonged, had a nice lunch, and congratulated ourselves all the way home. The video, however, only about 15 seconds long, did not survive as well as I did. Still, it cracks me up every time!