By janaveda on Skatehive
My Chronicles number 37… Wow, great! For some reason, deep in my subconscious, I feel a special fascination with that number and its counterpart, 73. Recreating any anecdote about stepping outside my comfort zone is sure to be very interesting. I think the most classic example is moving. Even when leaving hostile environments one has become accustomed to in one's routine. There comes a point when one becomes so acclimatized that one even develops affection for them. The first time I left my comfort zone was in my pre-teen years. I vaguely remember that, as a family, we had to leave the home of my earliest memories. It turns out that, during its construction, the bricklayers made the blunder of using water from the large nearby lake (semi-fresh) in the mortar for the rebar structures. Yes, over the years, the roof began to crack and crumble above our heads: a mortal danger. The strange thing is that, before this happened, my parents, who had been renting, repeatedly told the owner, Rose