The Danger of Comfort
She had a comfortable job out on the California coast, living in the Los Angeles area in a nice studio apartment with a car that was paid off. Kim Crawford-Zepezauer was working for Giorgio Beverly Hills perfume and enjoying free time down at Ye Old King’s Head, a pub in Santa Monica she referred to as King’s Head Tavern. Life was predictably, easy and set on a steady course.
The tavern was more than just a place to relax after work. It was a congregation of stories from around the world and Kim was there to hear them all.
“Over time I got to know some people from France. There’s people from all over the place but I particularly would shoot darts with people from France and I got to know them more and more over time and got intrigued.” Kim remembered. “Little by little over that same time, I kinda came to the realization that ‘God I’m not going anywhere.’ I have a great job. Car’s all paid for. I have this apartment in this great place. I want more. This is not what I want.”
In theory, she has always wanted more. Kim grew up in Westminster, California and remembers having posters of blue lagoons and sailboats and Fiji and Bora Bora up in her childhood room.
“I had no idea where those places were but just the images, the feeling of freedom, always really came back. And then stories too and reading books and things.” She remembers.
Even while in her “comfort zone” during her time in Los Angeles, Kim was still adventurous. Outside of the tavern and her work Kim was also fencing for fun, where she met people from Romania and Spain. It was at this point that she was feeling, as she described, a tug; A tug for more and to get away from the certain and the known.
There had been a plan to go to Paris. Kim and a friend made detailed arrangements and at the very last minute, her partner bailed out, leaving Kim at a fork: stay or go?
“I’m like ‘ok fuck I gotta go.’ and I flew over with this gigantic blob [...] I’m the worst traveler in the world. I had a duffle bag like the size of a body. You could put two bodies in this thing.” Kim said. “In anticipation of this trip I took one semester of French. Book French. I never took it in high school, I took Spanish in high school, and so I took one book, one semester of French. I landed in Paris and got out. I was terrified to speak the language.”
The fear was strong enough to keep her locked in her hotel room for two full days living solely on water. When she could no longer take the hunger, Kim gathered herself and ventured outside for the first time since landing.
“Finally on that second day I guess I was so hungry I just broke down. I went downstairs and there was like an open grocery and I picked out a giant baguette and a bunch of like 12 plums in a bag and I held out my hand just in embarrassment I was terrified to try, to even utter a word, and I just held out money and the lady was so sweet.” Kim remembered. “She took pity on me and she pulled out the change and then she patted my hand and then just said, you know, at the time what I thought I understood as ‘idiot, don’t be so chickenshit get out there are live.’”
After renourishing, she felt brave enough to start ticking things off of the detailed list she had originally made. The world was open, and it was hers for the taking, all she had to do was reach out.
“Over the course of more food a little bit of alcohol I became braver and braver and then I had a great time [and near] the end of my trip I called my friends.”
These were the friends from the tavern, the French family she shot darts with on occasion. Over the course of their time in America they had extended the offer for her to come visit them in Lyon. Kim still felt some fear from the language barrier, but eventually composed herself enough to call them, and they were more than happy to hear from her.
She spent three days in Lyon, enjoying time with the family and their son Albert, who was Kim’s crush at the time. Then the trip ended. Kim was back where she started.
She sat in wanderlust-filled ideas for a while, still craving more and still feeling the tug to go abroad. The family had extended a second offer to her, saying she was welcome to move abroad and live with them. Kim weighed her options, thinking of the staleness of home in comparison with the opportunity for adventure. This went on for three months.
“I quit my job, I sold my car, I put everything in storage, and I thought to myself ‘What’s the worst that can happen? What’s the worst that can happen is that you hate it or you fail or whatever so you come home. Can you handle it? What’s the worst that can happen, can you handle it? Yes.’ And that was my yes. So I did it.”
Kim left everything behind and flew back to France. The language barrier still held her back, but being immersed in the people and listening to the conversations of her host family as well as Albert, her new boyfriend, and his friends helped in her transition. She would also rent copies of “Les Adventures de Tintin” from the library to better understand the language.
Working abroad proved difficult as well. She worked at banquets in the beginning as a coat check girl and when she needed more money she would fly back to America to pick up part-time work. The French economy at the time was also heavily investing in sports teams. Kim has always been an avid volleyball player, so she was able to join a team and be paid under the table.
“The more I learned the language the more I felt familiar with the culture. People were wonderful, really nice, but I felt a pull back home. Realizing, I think, the pull that I was feeling to go away […] suddenly whatever I was running away from caught up to me.” Kim said. “As I became fluent and the relationship kind of fizzled away because we became better communicators and realized we weren’t in the same direction. And so after about two and half, three years, it’s like ‘ok, this is over,’ and I came home.”
This experience has changed her though. Kim evolved through the adversity and change.
“I think I’m much more tolerant, I’m much more observant, but I also don’t suffer the foolishness as much, you know what I mean? Things come along that are just kind of sucking your energy, taking your time, [...] right now it’s really in vogue to say ‘no fucks to give’ but that’s exactly what it is. It’s like suddenly you kinda shed some of the fucks you don’t really need to worry about because like if you’re traveling or living abroad or you’re somewhere that you don’t have all the trappings of your security […] you see people for who they are, what they are. You see yourself for how you’re going to rise to a challenge or react to a challenge. It’s really interesting, it strips things bare and then […] I think you become more you.”
Authenticity is gained through challenge. How we arrive at new situations and treat them and let them shape us are major formers of who we become. Whether you’re 15 or 50, travel will still change you and it is never too late to go out and explore; To see whcat’s been waiting outside of your comfort zones.
Kim still maintains her love affair with adventure today. She lives in Laguna Niguel, California, with her husband, Steve, and two kids, Alex and Zac. All share her passion for travel. Kim loves seeing Alex have posters up in her room similar to the very ones she had growing up.
Her love is also shared with her friends. Though all are in their 50s and 60s now, they often will meet up for sunset roller skates and congregate at the famous San Onofre beach for ‘Bubbly Surf Sessions’ to celebrate birthdays. The girls also try to go camping at San Elijo State Beach once a year.
“I’m older, I have lots more responsibilities which I love, that definitely ground me, but I think in that it’s cool in that there are still adventures. They may not be ‘travel the world,’ I still have those little itches, and I think there will be a time I can do that again. There are these adventures, these are smaller ones, smaller aspects that you can do with people. Whether it’s jumping out of your comfort zone doing something stupid or having a joke or having a laugh or trying things that are maybe not comfortable. I think that is where you apply those yearnings for adventure […] that’s imparted more than anything. Is that you can have these little adventures, you know? You can. Especially with friends and people. People’s energy you can take you can go do stupid shit […] Travel helps foam it and bring it up to the surface and not bury it and put away and set aside for responsible things. I think you can have it all along, and that’s hopefully to the grave.”
To the grave. We are merely a blip on the universe’s timeline. We only have so much time here and tomorrow is never a promise. It is only a possibility. When opportunity arises, no matter how scary, we owe it to ourselves, to that version of ourselves that is out of love with our circumstances, to go out into the world and experience. We can never change unless we leave comfort behind. It’s terrifying. It can feel miscalculated and the timing is never good. But we must, we absolutely have to. We cannot grow without adversity. We will rot in comfort without it.