A couple of weeks ago in LA we had a relentless rainstorm, the likes of which I’ve never seen in my 11 years of living here. It rained for what seemed like 40 days and 40 nights, nonstop and hard. Rivers overflowed. Houses slid off hills. Bad hair reigned chaos throughout the most image-conscious city in the world.
This was the kind of rain you didn’t want to be driving around in in anything, let alone a twenty-year old BMW convertible with a leaky roof and a crappy back tire that went flat every three days.
I’d been in the market for a new car for a long time and couldn’t find anything I really loved, but as I sat there in a puddle with a trash bag on my head on my way to the supermarket, it occurred to me that perhaps I should up my search.
I won’t go into the drawn-out decision making process that caused my family and friends to carefully screen their calls, but suffice it to say, it wasn’t pretty. And it took weeks.
I finally whittled it down to 2 choices:
The Honda CRV, a perfectly excellent little car with okay gas mileage, a sunroof, room for friends, comfy ride, ho hum stereo, reasonably fun to drive, decently priced.
and
The Audi Q5, a tear jerker of an automobile, angels sing when you open the door, drives like buttah, leather seats that embrace you with unconditional love, a stereo system designed by God Himself, a sunroof that takes up the entire roof of the car, flashy, expensive, not the Jen Sincero we know.
I came very close to buying the Honda, but as I sat there, test driving it for the fiftieth time, I couldn’t shake the nagging truth that I was in love with someone else. Buying the Honda would have been doing the sensible thing, while I knew adventure, true love and a whole new way of life awaited me on the other side of my comfort zone.
This comfort zone is what I want to talk about here. Purchasing the Audi made me wake up screaming in the middle of the night because it cost a crapload of money, the kind of crapload I never even considered spending on a car until I made the grave mistake of sitting inside this one.
Here’s the thing:
Have you ever put yourself in a situation that’s outside of your own reality, just to check it out, certainly not to fully participate, only to find yourself completely immersed in it in the not so distant future?
This is because we are drawn to the things we are supposed to be, do or have. While we may think we’re just checking it out on a lark (this is officially the first time I’ve ever used the word “lark” ladies and gentlemen), we are really following our true natures outside of our present, perceived realities into the ones we’re meant to grow into.
For example, if you work at Walmart but spend your free time looking at big fancy houses by the beach or perusing the internet for African Safaris or writing Phd after your name to see how it feels, it’s not wasting time on pipe dreams, it’s possibility showing itself to you. Not everyone is interested in checking out the same things you are – you’re doing it because it speaks to you.
And since you can be do or have anything you want, it’s your decision whether you listen to, and manifest, what’s speaking to you or not.
This is where you must remember the concept: Leap and the net will appear. To grow you have to step into the unfamiliar and trust that you will rise to the occasion.
I almost instantly came up with a plan to pay the Audi off and am certain that if I’d played small and bought the Honda, I’d be struggling to pay for it. 100% certain.
When you uplevel your idea of what’s possible, everything follows suit.
So get out there and scare the shit out of yourself please. You’ll be very very very glad you did.







