Sunday, November 13, 2011

Comfy

"When you are old and gray and full of sleep/And nodding by the fire ___." Yeat's wonderful words came to mind the other evening when I was sitting by my fire, more full of Irish whiskey than sleep, and in a poetic frame of mind. Browsing a book of Scottish poems, I came across "Warming Her Pearls" by Judith Radstone in which the poet describes a servant's reaction to one of her duties; the duty being, to wear the pearls her mistress would wear later in the evening in order to warm them up. WTF I said (the whiskey talking) but it got me thinking about comfort and its place in life.

Mostly, comfort is a good thing whose value, rightfully so, increases as the years pile up. The danger lies in becoming so comfortable in your robe and slippers and fluffy this and that, that you stop moving around. Or, in becoming so pampered that you lose perspective, as in the Radstone poem. The world, after all, is a changeful place and a day might come when you have to warm up your own pearls.

We are more likely to be aware of seeking physical comfort than we are of seeking emotional comfort, but similar pitfalls prevail if we are overreaching. Not wanting our hearts to hurt, we dodge situations that might expose us to emotional pain. We can bear second-hand tragedy in films and books but not in real life.

At a younger age, consequences and comfort were less important and our hearts more easily opened. But experience teaches that we can't save everyone, bring home all the animals, give away all our money. We need to pace ourselves, look out for ourselves and that includes our emotional comfort. To a degree.

When the desire for comfort gets overgrown, we lose some of the richness of life. To avoid the heartache of seeing a loved one decline, we don't visit the retirement home but we also miss the expansive feeling that goes with doing "the right thing." And we don't get to have whatever that person had to give that day: a smile, a frown, a bit of wisdom, a window into where we may one day find ourselves. When we don't ask an old friend to dinner because it's too much trouble, we avoid a pile of dirty dishes in the morning but we miss some good laughs and the warmth of friendship.

Hanging a sign on oneself that reads "Do Not Disturb" comes at a cost. Many things, both large and small, remain undone or unexplored because comfort has climbed high on a list of values. Comfort can dull the senses and the heart. When it's too much trouble to look up, we don't see the beauty of the sky. When comfort trumps compassion, we don't nurture the heart. I, for one, will think "pearls" the next time I pass up life for the sake of comfort.

11 comments:

Gigi Little said...

"Comfort can dull the senses and the heart." Wow, so true. I know comfort, and the need for it, is one of my biggest demons.

Bridget said...

Totally know what you are saying, Gigi. Comfort is a wicked siren.

Laura Stanfill said...

I particularly love this insight, Bridget: "At a younger age, consequences and comfort were less important and our hearts more easily opened. But experience teaches that we can't save everyone, bring home all the animals, give away all our money."

Mike the Canuck said...

Comfort yourself with some Irish (or Scotch)and then go out and do good.

Susan said...

I think I might be at the other end of the spectrum, trying to learn to let more comfort in. It's so appealing to me, but I give it to myself through other people mainly -- watching someone else's tv, nibbling on brownies someone else has brought home (I do mean with their permission!) I let them catch heck with the big comfort police in the sky and keep my nose clean.

Bridget said...

Laura,
I've gotten pretty good at setting limits,only have three cats. Logic rules but the heart feels a pinch

Bridget said...

Sounds like you have a rule or two around comfort that keep you from embracing it. Who are the comfort police that criticize?

Bridget said...

OK, Mike. May I take the bottle with me?

kay said...

I live for comfort.But I have often been told I am a shallow pig

kay said...

I live for comfort.But I have often been told I am a shallow pig

Bridget said...

Well, that's harsh, Kay. Maybe it's the ice cream?