Ah, adventure. For me, the word conjures up visions of Roz Savage, George Kourounis, Bear Grylls, and so many more before them and since them who have not so much ventured outside their comfort zone as jumped without a parachute. I find myself following their exploits with great interest. An armchair explorer, I PVR their shows or follow them on Facebook and Twitter to keep up with what they're up to. And they never disappoint. One minute Roz is in some country I've never heard of, the next George is documenting a hurricane - and not from afar, but right smack in the middle of it, and Bear is eating something that most of us wouldn't even touch let alone ingest.

I have always been a restless soul, a bit of a gypsy, able to fit into society but never feeling quite comfortable in my comfortable world. It surprises me, then, when I take a look at myself and see that I am living a very structured, orderly, suburban life. I knew no different growing up, and I simply followed the same path as my parents. In fact, I never even considered another. Fast forward two kids and almost two decades later, and I can tell you the precise moment my world opened up. Way up. Like 29,000 feet up. A friend recommended I read "Into Thin Air" by Jon Krakauer.

"Into Thin Air" is an account of the 1996 disaster on Mt. Everest. It's a heartbreaking story of friendship, greed, horror, loss, and so much more. Reading that book literally ripped my carefully manicured world wide open. I realized, actually became aware that there was a whole world out there, not just physically and geographically, but experientially (Is that a word? If not, I just made it up). Basically raising my kids alone didn't leave a lot of time, money, or energy to look too far beyond my front lawn (and I loved every minute of it so no complaints here). But upon finishing that book, I wept. I cried for the lost, the survivors, and I even cried a little for myself because damn, if I'd have been aware of this in my 20's, well, I think I might have made some significantly different choices. One question that apparently is asked of climbers regularly (especially given the high mortality rate) is "why do it?" And they all have some variation of the same answer: it feeds their soul, it takes them to a higher place (no pun intended), because they'll go crazy with the sameness of life if they don't. I completely and utterly understand that. I too would climb a mountain in a heartbeat. Except that I don't like the cold. And I have a fear of falling. But other that that, I'm all over it.

So maybe before I trade in my stilettos for crampons (although I suspect stilettos would be very effective in ice, and stylish too, if a little chilly) and a ticket to Nepal, perhaps I should start my life of adventure with something a little less epic.

I'm going to define "adventure" as anything that excites you and takes you out of your comfort zone, even if just by an inch. It needn't involve freeze-dried food, bottled oxygen, storm-chasing equipment, or a sat phone. Adventure is relative. Most of us can't simply up and change our lifestyle dramatically (although as my kids move into their 20's I'm beginning to see options I didn't see before.) If we take the above definition into consideration, I have actually embarked on 3 adventures in the last little while. I started a social group, I started writing again, and I bought my Mustang. All 3 of those fit the above criteria. I started my group without any idea whether or not people would be interested, whether they'd find it valuable, or whether I'd be able to do it. I started writing again without the prior confirmation that anyone would like it or read it. And I bought a completely impractical performance vehicle, knowing full well I have only 6" of ground clearance due to the front spoiler which means I'll be housebound most of the winter. It's a rear wheel drive beast with all the weight in the front end which basically guarantees I'll spend the days I do manage to get out of my driveway sliding all over the road. If that's not adventure (and stupidity), I don't know what is.

(Note: Having grown up learning to drive in Halton Hills (called HILLS for a reason) in a top-heavy Camaro, I am confident in my ability to navigate winter weather in my 'stang. Well that, and the fact that I'll have two bags of sand and a shovel in my trunk, both for weight and emergencies. My mama didn't raise any idiots.)

So we can start small. We needn't attempt the mountain right from the get go. Hell, if we're using a climbing metaphor, I haven't even made it to base camp yet. I haven't even begun to climb. You could say I'm getting my gear together, slowly compiling the equipment I need to start my next adventure. That, in and of itself, is outside my comfort zone, and it excites me. Just living passionately, with awareness and purpose, is my current adventure. Who knows where it will lead. What's your current adventure? Ask yourself this question: What would you do if you knew you couldn't fail? I suspect that's a step in the right direction.

email forsharron@rogers.com
blog www.fashionista2passionista.com