The comfort zone- a place of ease, perceived control, and little stress. Let’s be honest, we all want to operate inside our comfort zone where we can keep anxiety at bay, feel confident, and know what we are doing. We fear failure so we ensure success by only doing those things we have already done. But experience teaches that the most growth and learning happens when we step outside that comfort zone. Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “Do something everyday that scares you. These small things that make us uncomfortable help us build courage to do the work we do.”
Life on the ranch tends to give us all plenty of moments outside our comfort zone that we can either embrace and learn through or shy away from and stay stagnant. I’ll admit that embracing those moments feels especially hard when my failures are out on display for so many others to see. It’s ok for my growing children to learn from failure, but as a grown adult, I too often feel like I should just know, well… everything.
Just last week I took the opportunity to do something new and outside my comfort zone. For some, this might seem like a simple daily chore but for me, it was a whole new experience- feeding cows solo. Now I go out and help feed often, sometimes daily. I know the routine, what to feed, how much, but I’ve always been the crew that opens the gates, cuts the net wrap off and such.
What I haven’t ever done is be the guy in the tractor behind the wheel. If we had to choose between my very capable husband and myself in the seat, we choose him because we want to get the job done and move on. And, really, why should I do it when he is there?
Eventually the day rolled around when all of the usual feeding crew were gone. The roping that was supposed to get done with plenty of time for the ranchers to get home and feed, went long, lending to one of two possibilities. Either they would have to feed late after getting home or I could jump in and try to do it myself. I pulled on my big girl coveralls and jumped in the tractor seat, sure that I could feed three bales of hay without disaster striking.
There were a few things I knew I had on my side as I set out- first I had the basics of tractor mechanics down so that I could drive faster than at a snail pace and move the loader in all the necessary directions. Second, if I had questions, FaceTime put me just one phone call away from help. And third, cows don’t care how pretty the feeding is, they just want the hay out.
Getting to the stackyard I found the right hay, and through a little trial and error, managed to get a bale on the forks and grab one with the three point bale squeeze on the back. It wasn’t as smooth and easy as when the guys do it, but I was doing it. I headed up the hill to the hungry heifers, planning in my mind how I was going to go about feeding. I would set the first bale down, cut the wrap off, tip it over, send it rolling down the hill and that would keep the cows out of the way while I put the other two in bale feeders around the pasture. Easy enough.
Everything started off according to plan until it was time to send that bale rolling down the hill. What seemed like a simple little push with the forks was hardly so and because it was taking longer than usual, the cows were now starting to get in the way. To complicate things even more, it was suddenly dark outside.
I was definitely outside my comfort zone, but also so in the thick of what I was doing that there was no quitting.
Scooping up the bale I had intended to roll down the hill, I put it in the first feeder and opted to try again with the second bale, learning from my earlier mistakes. It took a little trial and error but bale number two was finally rolled out and the cows were content to leave me alone while I fed the last bale.
Heading to the feeder, I saw that it was on a hill and while I might be in a tractor, I had better be smart about how I went about getting there. Between the snow and mud, the hill was slick and in that moment, a distinct memory of a teenage girl failing to turn a tractor up a muddy hill came rushing back to me.
Putting the tractor in the low, snail pace gear, I carefully headed down the hill, making sure I had a clear plan out of there after dropping my load. All seemed well as I made my way to the feeder until I stopped the tractor to pull off the net wrap and noticed the tractor continued to slide. I quickly turned the wheels and that was enough to keep it still. I knew I could dump the bale but I wasn’t sure how I would get out of my predicament once I straightened out again.
Four wheel drive. That was the solution. I really should have thought of that before heading down the slippery hill but at least I was thinking of it now. The only problem was that of the millions of buttons, levers and switches, I had no idea which to toggle. And I was sure that the wrong one would probably make the whole tractor implode.
Mustering the courage to make that phone call that admitted a bit of failure, I called my husband and asked for help. Without laughing at my mistakes or making me feel even more dumb than I already felt, my rancher easily helped me get out of my sticky situation. I dropped the last bale, skirted around the feeder, and headed for home quite proud of what I had finally accomplished that night.
For some, this was a simple chore, something they could probably do with their eyes closed, although I don’t recommend it. They made it seem easy but as I went through the very steps they did, it seemed so complicated and almost dauntin. I hope you chuckle about this little ranch wife willing to help even when the job is outside her comfort zone. But more importantly I hope you learn a few lessons from her.
Learn that you can accomplish far more than you think you can. You just have to try. New things are hard and scary- they are supposed to be! But, trying, jumping in with both feet is the only way to grow. Learn that people are here to help you. Asking for help isn’t admitting failure, even though it feels like it. Learn that the only real confidence in life comes from conquering those moments of fear, big or small. I might not be on the “A team” when it comes to the feeding crew, but if the job needs doing, I know I can do it. Next time, I just might have to start a little earlier and find the four wheel drive a little sooner.
