The Sweet Spot of Safety and Soul Calling
Why your comfort zone is meant to be your launching pad, not your permanent address
I was on winter vacation in Brazil, escaping to the thrilling vibes of European summer. Here I was, day three of my one-month vacation (yes, in Brazil it's very common to have 30 days vacation—it was a shock for me to get only 15 days in Canada). I was walking around the beautiful streets of Venice, Italy.
At the time, I was working in a high-end hotel as a manager, and it was already clear to me, despite my success at an early age, that this promising career didn't really speak to my soul.
Venice was gorgeous that day—sunny, fresh enough to wear a t-shirt and light scarf. I had just bought delicious pistachio gelato when I saw this small photography store. Something called me there.
I saw a camera. A Nikon. Black and big but entry level, with all the manual features and good quality lens.
I felt the desire in my heart to explore photography, and so I bought it. I didn't know how to use it, but I knew I could start with the automatic setting until I learned all the magic that camera could make. I felt so powerful. It's funny to remember how cool I thought I was.
I enjoyed my 30-day vacation and took around three thousand pictures on that trip. Was I excited or what?
A couple of years later, I applied for Canadian residency and was planning to move to Montreal. In the meantime, I quit my luxury hotel job and moved to São Paulo to study photography. That was my new passion, and it felt like the perfect way to use my time while waiting for my final visa.
I found a photography course, enrolled, and moved. As I was learning, I was refining my taste and understanding what I liked about photography. One thing that truly lit me up was food photography. I already had a collection of recipe books from my travels—not because I loved to cook, but because I loved looking at the beautiful food productions.
I was buying magazines just to see the pictures, and yes, from time to time I would cook something delicious. In these magazines, I found two photographers whose work I really admired. I contacted the first one, asking if I could help her with productions, and she accepted me as her assistant.
It was like a dream job. I would go to many amazing restaurants in São Paulo (and if you don't know São Paulo, you should visit just for the restaurants). I would help with productions, they would prepare their best dishes, and at the end we would eat and enjoy nice wine.
Time went by and I saw a posting from the other photographer I admired, offering an assistant position. I immediately applied. He asked for a portfolio, and of course I had none, so I selected my best shots from travels, plus some cool ones from my course. I was very proud of myself—I loved all my pictures.
He called me for an interview. I dressed up, all excited, and went.
It was an underground studio, full of nice cameras, a little dark, with computers, many props for shooting, cool lighting equipment. Him and another assistant.
We sat across the table and he asked why I had applied. I said I loved his pictures, I was taking this course, and would love to work for him. I thought I was doing well.
He opened my portfolio and started what felt like 30 minutes, but was probably less than 10.
He shared how awful all my pictures were. He talked about wrong framing, terrible lighting technique, lack of light in many pictures, wrong positioning of objects. He kept going, sharing how bad of a photographer I was. He wasn't rude, but he made no effort to make me feel good or minimize how terrible he thought my work was.
As he spoke, I felt contraction in my belly. My body was contracting. It felt very uncomfortable, and I almost wanted to stand up and leave. But deep inside, I knew he was right, so I continued listening.
When he finished, he asked what I thought about everything he shared, and if I still wanted to work with him.
I opened a huge smile and said, "I loved everything you shared, and yes, even though you hate my work, I still like yours and want to work with you."
He was very surprised. "Even after everything I told you?"
"Absolutely. How do you think I'm going to learn? If you told me my work was good, I would keep doing the mediocre thing I'm doing. Honestly, if I needed positive feedback, I would have shown my pictures to my dad, who would say I'm the best photographer in the world."
He laughed and said, "You're hired. We want you here. Not because of the quality of your work - because it's terrible - but because of your willingness to learn, grow, and get what you want."
My point in sharing this story with you is this: there's a sweet spot when you decide to dedicate yourself to something new that's deeply important to your heart, when money isn't a necessity, or the primary driver behind your decision making. The sense of safety that comes from having money and not worrying about paying bills next month is very suitable for creativity.
I wasn't looking for that job because I needed money. I was looking to be with top professionals in something I was passionate about. I would have paid him and the other photographer to coach me.
If you have a job, or maybe you already have your own business, but you have a desire in your heart—something new you want to create—now is a good time to start surrounding yourself with people who have what you're trying to create.
Ask for help.
Find a mentor.
You don't need to wait for life to kick your butt to start taking actions from your heart. You can create that and allow it to evolve in a safe and peaceful way.
There's a downside to this comfort, though. If you're way too comfortable, you'll need to build your own motivation system. You'll need discipline to show up for yourself, which is often hard when you don't need to.
But if you have this calling, this desire to start a new business, to help people in a way that only you know how—don't wait for the perfect opportunity in some far future. It doesn't exist.
Choose to open space for that in your life now. While you have money. While you are healthy. Yes, while you are busy. You'll see that many of your excuses about being busy are just distractions that aren't taking you anywhere.
When you learn from people who are actually doing the work, you shortcut your path. The clarity you get when someone reflects back your strengths and weaknesses is invaluable. Your willingness to receive hard feedback with an open heart isn't just about developing skills—it's about who you're becoming in service of your calling.
Your comfort zone isn't meant to be a permanent residence—it's meant to be your launching pad.
With love,
Carolina
That Photography Studio Changed Everything
I could have walked out when he destroyed my portfolio. But I stayed because I wasn't desperate—I had the safety to hear hard truths.
Maybe you know this feeling.
You've built something solid. A career that pays well while you build on the side. Or a business that's profitable but somehow... stuck.
You're not struggling to survive. You're struggling to expand.
Here's what I've learned: when you have resources but still feel trapped, it's not just about strategy. It's about the patterns you can't see.
The ones that make you delay your transition "just one more year" even though you're ready.
The ones that have you working harder at the same things, wondering why nothing's changing.
I needed someone to show me what I couldn't see in my photography. You might need the same mirror for your business.
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Your comfort isn't meant to keep you safe. It's meant to give you courage to grow.
With love,
Carolina
P.S. Just like I didn't wait to be a "real" photographer to seek feedback, you don't need to wait until you've "figured it out" to see your patterns clearly.
I still feel like he could have been a little kinder with his feedback!!! lol