Warm Tea.
Source: lishuang111/Pixabay
Winter is upon us. Or for those of us in Florida, the weather dips below 70 degrees for a few hours in the morning before shooting back up into the 80s. Nevertheless, the changing of seasons evokes images of chunky sweaters, fuzzy blankets, and steamy bowls of soup with crusty bread. These images are cozy and comforting. When we are wrapped up in a blanket, in a soft seat, we feel comforted and at ease. Maybe we even drift off to sleep. This type of comfort is good, but let’s expand the definition of the word.
What Is Comfort?
Physical comfort can be experienced in such ways described above; an enveloping sense of peace that allows for stillness and release. But what about emotional comfort? Isn’t it the same thing? If I am comforting myself emotionally, because I’ve had a hard day, or because I’ve been hit by a zing of anxiety, shouldn’t I successfully be able to comfort myself into enough peace and stillness to release all the “bad” emotions that I’m feeling, to make them all go away and leave me alone so I can be happy and blissed out again? Not exactly.
What Is Emotional Comfort?
Every day, every moment, there will be things we cannot control: a harsh word from a spouse or boss, a physical ailment, a financial crisis. These experiences will inevitably create in us feelings of discomfort and disquiet. We don’t like it. We want it to stop. Depending on the situation, there may be a number of things we can do to influence things, but not always. So when we come to the bottom of the barrel of our own influence, what do we have left? Our feelings about it—and then, the ability to comfort ourselves in those feelings.
Now when I say we can comfort ourselves, I am not saying: “Placate and minimize your feelings to Jedi-mind-trick yourself into thinking you’re not really upset.” That is not comfort, that is invalidation. If you try this, you will surely find your disquieting feeling growing twofold. When we comfort ourselves, we do the opposite. We let the difficult feeling breathe. We give it room and we believe it has a right to be there with you, in that moment, in the room. It’s believing that whatever you’re experiencing is natural given your circumstances and that you’re not silly or stupid for feeling the way you’re feeling. It’s believing you have the capability to care for yourself in that moment as well.
Comfort is letting yourself believe that your difficult feeling is allowed, and then opens the door for you to be able to care for yourself as a result.
What Does Care With Comfort Look Like?
It can be many things. Again, what it isn’t is care with the intention to shoo away the difficult feelings. It is showing compassion for yourself while carrying difficult feelings. It is continuing to make choices that align with the kind of life you want to build and live while also carrying difficult emotions. Essentially, it’s anything that allows our nervous system to relax enough to create a sense of internal safety.
This can look like:
- Keeping those dinner plans with close friends even though you found out you lost your job today.
- Eating a nutritious meal even though you have little appetite as your mind races.
- Showing kindness to your child even though you’re disappointed in yourself for something you said.
- Saying no to an extra task at church because you need more time for rest.
- Going to bed early instead of doing that extra load of laundry.
We can do these things even while we carry hard things. Comfort doesn’t mean, I take a bath so now I’m “all better.” Comfort means, “I’m human, I struggle, and I can meet my needs while I struggle, all the same.”