突破舒適區，活出真自我
美文共享
作者：by Randy Widrick
My whole career exists outside my comfort zone. I realize that most teens are self conscious[自我意識] to a point that they generally don’t want to attract attention to themselves. I was painfully self conscious and unconfident， to the point where I refused to complete any assignment in which I was required to stand in front of the class and speak. For these assignments， I simply took a zero. I was a GOOD student， graduating 11th in my class， so it’s not as though a zero grade was an easy choice， but it was far less painful than the alternative[可選擇的].
Like many students， during my first few years of college I jumped around from one science major to another， not ever feeling like my choice was THE RIGHT ONE. I actually became so LOST that I left college all together until I could find some direction. In that time， I met and married my wife. While she already had a bachelor’s degree[學士學位]， she decided to go back to get her master’s and become a teacher. At night， as she would work on her mock[模擬的] lessons， I would sometimes help her out. I found the process of finding novel[新穎的] ways to present lessons fairly easy and very appealing[誘人的]. It dawned[逐漸明白] on me that my calling was to be a teacher. Oh， wait. Do you think I would need to stand in front of a group of people and speak in that career？
The intense irony[諷刺] did not escape me. Now that I had a direction， it was time to restart my college education. One of my first classes had to be Public Speaking. I knew that if I couldn’t get through that， there was no way I could be a teacher. Yes， I was older， but the idea of speaking still filled me with as much dread[恐懼] as ever. For each of my assignments， I would practice the speech over and over. I would record it and listen to it in my car as I drove around. I would give the speech in front of a mirror. In retrospect[回顧過往]， I now believe that my greatest fear was that my audience would perceive[認為] me as not knowing what I was talking about. My nerves would cause my head to swirl[打旋]， making it difficult to hold my train of thought. I would surely soon get lost， and then stumble[（說話）出錯] and bumble[語無倫次] along desperately trying to recover the remainder of the time. I think it all stems from a traumatic[有創傷的] experience I had in second grade where I was thrust[擠] upon the school stage as a class project without actually knowing my lines. Painful is an understatement[輕描淡寫的陳述]. Absolute nightmare， from which I can’t seem to wake up is more apt[恰當].