Today I fly to Florida to spend a week with my family so I will make this simple.
I have been thinking about the things that bring us comfort. We draw comfort from various things whether it be an action, a person, a pet, a favorite food, or perhaps a piece of memorabilia.
I think comfort has taken a bad rap. Many people talk about stepping out of our ‘comfort zone’ as if it is a negative place to dwell. Comfort itself seems to have earned a negative connotation. I understand the sentiment, but I value comfort and comforting others.
Here are some questions to ponder.
- How would you define comfort?
- Under what circumstances do you seek and/or give comfort?
- The sound of my father’s voice always brought me comfort. Is there a voice that beings you comfort?
- Do you have a favorite comfort food?
- What person, animal, place, or thing makes you feel comforted?
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A place of comfort for me is a place where even in the midst of chaos, everything seems right with the world.
Being an introvert and a loner, I seldom seek comfort from others. My dad was always the person that comforted me. He could read me. He knew when things were off kilter. I often felt simply sharing the same space with him was comforting. He was a big man who could transform me with his hugs. No one has ever hugged me like my father although my son comes pretty close.
My dad’s voice was a deep bass voice and it amazed me how much gentle comfort he could deliver with that booming voice. I miss hearing it.
I have a few comfort foods.
- Hardboiled eggs chopped up with a little butter, eaten on toast
- Grilled cheese sandwiches
- A piece of warm buttered cornbread fresh from the oven
- A cup of hot cocoa
I draw great comfort from my husband. We can both read or work independent of each other but there is comfort in the knowledge he is close by.
A dog or a cat snuggled up close, warm against my body. I find petting an animal most comforting as well.
Of course my mountains bring me great comfort too. They hold the echoes of my family and my ancestors. They are home to me.
As we drove, we passed this gorgeous tree. The light was hitting it from the back and it was just so beautiful. We stopped the car and took a picture of the tree. The light touched me. It was a reminder that even in our darkest hours, there is a sliver of light somewhere. It may be just a trickle, but it will be there.
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