From the author: An example of working in immersion. It was time for him to “grow up,” and this is obvious. Not only because it was obvious to everyone around. It was as if something was wiping him out. And at the same time it stopped. "Comfort zone". These words pulsed in Vanya’s well-read and erudite brain, which, like everyone else, did not really smile at leaving its comfort zone. After all, fish look for where it’s deeper, and people look for where it’s better. It’s just that little worm in the soul... or the nail in the young butt that prevented them from enjoying the fruits of their hands, considering them insufficient. The worm systematically envied more successful peers, and that nail urged them to raise their seat and achieve something. Cool. There were projects. Plans. Their rationale. Take it and do it. And... no way. It’s so good when you are promising, everyone believes in you, predicts a future for you. And, if something is created, say, a drawing... then everyone will see... will be... like this.... Evaluate... please everyone. Creating something and putting it on display is like revealing your soul. Get on stage, open the curtain and present yourself to the world through your project (the product of your activity). And who knows whether bouquets of flowers or rotten tomatoes will fly onto the stage? What about tomatoes? It’s much safer to sit and think thoughts. And not let that thought come to mind that “it’s better to do nothing than to screw up.” This thought was in Ivan’s soul. Like a captive bird, she sat in a dark room, without windows, without doors. Behind the stone walls of psychological protection. During the dive, thought began to beat against the walls of its prison, and the Bird of Truth told a “fairy tale” about Ivanushka, a good fellow, two years old, digging in the garden. Ivanushka got so carried away, he got so dirty from diligence digging up all the crops that he began to sweat. Of course, yesterday grandma was digging with a shovel, and he, a good fellow, plows with his hands, lovingly. And it was lovingly, until two Lyulyas arrived from grandma. Yes, not simple ones, with a slap on the head. And shouting that Ivanushka was only ruining everything, that it would be better for him to sit with his hands folded, he would be of more use. And then everything went on and on. The grandmother cried for a long time... until Ivashka’s little hands became weak and flabby. The heroic strength has left the little hands. Ivan hung his head and folded his paws on his tummy. It was then that his grandmother praised him and gave him a pie with compote. And I just haven’t covered it with cotton yet. Let the child sit and eat compote. And finally, joy will reign in the world. How to return heroic strength? Ivan had to fly to the distant lands for that bird, back to his childhood barefoot. To regain the heroic strength where he lost it, where he buried it in the garden furrow with an unknown treasure. Ivan dug up his treasure, and his hands immediately grew in size, filled with strength and courage. And there was so much strength in his hands that the entire garden was ready to be plowed, sowed, and harvested. But it’s just unnecessary now. It’s a good idea to create a drawing. Tea, hands now do not grow from the same place where the nail sits. Hands grow from where they are placed, and the heroic power comes to them, oh, itch your shoulder... and the crowd disperses. The road to a new life. To a new comfort zone. The old caftan has become too small. Yours Irina Panina +7 963 717 777 3Together we will find the way to your hidden capabilities!