Sitting in a café, all alone, trying hard not to look like a serial killer, I do what I think I do best. While for some it may not seem like a big deal, to pick up a laptop and start punching the keyboard by the window of a neighbourhood café, in my head, I just climbed Mt. Everest. I’ve been so busy in the humdrum of life, that I never realised how deep into my comfort zone I went, and how long I’ve stayed there. Being on my own in a common space with nobody to talk to, simply enjoying my coffee and writing, isn’t something I normally do. Besides, I always seem to have company, if not a living human, at least a mobile that I bury myself into every five minutes. I like to be surrounded by company, to do things in the comforts of my own space, to not stand out much. So when I decided to spend a little time with myself, getting out of my comfort zone, I took the first step towards feeling awkward and uncomfortable, I took the first step towards being comfortable with myself.
And it made me think, how often do we spend time with ourselves, how often do we look within?