Comfort

When I was little, I used to push the chairs of the dining room table out and lay underneath the table with all the chairs surrounding me. I say little, but I'm positive there were days I could come home from high school and do the very same thing. I would lay there on the floor, close my eyes and just breath. I have no idea why that was so attractive to me. Usually I would do that when I felt heavy and overwhelmed. It was my way of comforting myself. It was my way of getting back to even.

I thought about this last week, when I was having a heavy week. I guess I thought, at my age I didn't need that kind of comfort. I guess I thought I was tough and could handle whatever the world chucked at me without ever taking a step back. Maybe I forgot how relaxing it was to lay under a table. I was wrong.

Eventually, everyone learns how to comfort themselves. It usually happens when we are very small. We find a way to make ourselves feel comforted and safe. Eventually a crying baby will calm itself down. Eventually a whining puppy will curl up and fall asleep. (Even though I know it makes you feel like a horrible person waiting for them to do it.) Every creature eventually does what it needs to do to find serenity.

Our lives are so busy that we forget we need to take care of ourselves. We need to push the chairs away from the dining room table and escape to our fort for a few minutes. We need to remember to breath. We need to remember to stop. We need to remember that while we're rushing around living, resting is apart of life.

Find a comfortable spot and make it yours. Visit it often. Or, take my advice and crawl under the nearest dining room table. You're just going to have to trust me on this one.

This is Gus. He prefers under the desk.