COMFORT is kind of a cool word. When you say it, listen to the tone you use. Notice the way it makes you feel when you say it.
What is comfort? What are its causes and effects? Why is it so necessary?
Definitions of "comfort" from dictionary.com include, "to soothe, console, or reassure; bring cheer to," "to aid; support or encourge," "relied in affliction; solace," "a state of ease and satisfaction of bodily wants, with freedom from pain and anxiety," "a person or thing that gives consolation," or "a state of ease or well being."
Seems like a pretty good thing right? Of course.
I feel a bit of comfort right now because my classes are over with for the day and it is now officially Fall Break in my perspective. I'm sitting in the campus library, in sweats I bought for much cheaper from ebay, with a friend who works here at the circulation desk.
So why does the human race seem to lift up those that resist comfort? When someone goes out of their comfort zone to do something different-- some incredible feat, artistic and novel creation, or a divergence from conformity-- we celebrate that person. That person is catalogued, canonized, remembered, written about, used as inspiration, maybe even worshipped.
And in between our readings of Guideposts, or Chicken Soup for the Soul, we find an addiction to comfort. We "awwwww" over the feats of others that go out of their comfort zone as we lay on our couch with a cup of hot chocolate, with no plans of our own trips outside of our Comfort Zone.
Is comfort bad?
Some use comfort to forget or erase. A girl picks up a drug after her parents fight and her friend goes on and on about the buzz and how it settled her down, or numbed down the pain for a little while. Comfort addictions seem hereditary. Comfort addictions lead to long-term discomfort.
Do we really need comfort?
Do we falsely believe that we need comfort, and then hold ourselves back from doing great things?
What would happen if we reversed our everyday inclinations towards comfort? No more following rules and keeping silent just to avoid conflict; no more looking at the clock during class eagerly anticipating lunch or a nap; no more inner turmoil and anguish over the fact that we are a little wet from the rain, or letting other small stuff ruin entire days; no more aching over the fact that we do not have some form of comfort that another person has-- a pet, a significant other, a candy bar, drugs, or the supposed skills to do something more easily.
We don't always need comfort as much as we think.
Or, is it that we are unaware of the comfort that is actually available to us, and that we are looking in all the wrong places?
And what is freedom? Is it found in the comfort zone-- secluded from outside societal conformity in a place where we can push ourselves away from the resistance of others (as I have been writing about in my Departmental Honors project ), or is it found outside the comfort zone, when we push ourselves to fight the tide, resist conformity, and push forward into a new horizon called originality? Is there, beyond this horizon, or inside this secluded room, a place where comfort is found to be innate and good?
The rain seems to have stopped outside. My friend is about done with work. I'm tired and so I will revert to the comfort of my bed until dinnertime, forgetting this was ever written.
What is comfort? What are its causes and effects? Why is it so necessary?
Definitions of "comfort" from dictionary.com include, "to soothe, console, or reassure; bring cheer to," "to aid; support or encourge," "relied in affliction; solace," "a state of ease and satisfaction of bodily wants, with freedom from pain and anxiety," "a person or thing that gives consolation," or "a state of ease or well being."
Seems like a pretty good thing right? Of course.
I feel a bit of comfort right now because my classes are over with for the day and it is now officially Fall Break in my perspective. I'm sitting in the campus library, in sweats I bought for much cheaper from ebay, with a friend who works here at the circulation desk.
So why does the human race seem to lift up those that resist comfort? When someone goes out of their comfort zone to do something different-- some incredible feat, artistic and novel creation, or a divergence from conformity-- we celebrate that person. That person is catalogued, canonized, remembered, written about, used as inspiration, maybe even worshipped.
And in between our readings of Guideposts, or Chicken Soup for the Soul, we find an addiction to comfort. We "awwwww" over the feats of others that go out of their comfort zone as we lay on our couch with a cup of hot chocolate, with no plans of our own trips outside of our Comfort Zone.
Is comfort bad?
Some use comfort to forget or erase. A girl picks up a drug after her parents fight and her friend goes on and on about the buzz and how it settled her down, or numbed down the pain for a little while. Comfort addictions seem hereditary. Comfort addictions lead to long-term discomfort.
Do we really need comfort?
Do we falsely believe that we need comfort, and then hold ourselves back from doing great things?
What would happen if we reversed our everyday inclinations towards comfort? No more following rules and keeping silent just to avoid conflict; no more looking at the clock during class eagerly anticipating lunch or a nap; no more inner turmoil and anguish over the fact that we are a little wet from the rain, or letting other small stuff ruin entire days; no more aching over the fact that we do not have some form of comfort that another person has-- a pet, a significant other, a candy bar, drugs, or the supposed skills to do something more easily.
We don't always need comfort as much as we think.
Or, is it that we are unaware of the comfort that is actually available to us, and that we are looking in all the wrong places?
And what is freedom? Is it found in the comfort zone-- secluded from outside societal conformity in a place where we can push ourselves away from the resistance of others (as I have been writing about in my Departmental Honors project ), or is it found outside the comfort zone, when we push ourselves to fight the tide, resist conformity, and push forward into a new horizon called originality? Is there, beyond this horizon, or inside this secluded room, a place where comfort is found to be innate and good?
The rain seems to have stopped outside. My friend is about done with work. I'm tired and so I will revert to the comfort of my bed until dinnertime, forgetting this was ever written.
