Comfort and Joy

Join me, friend. The lights are still glowing on my tree and I can see that you need a reprieve. It’s a lot, huh? The here and there and everywhere. Maybe the children didn’t want to leave their new toys to get in the car. Maybe you didn’t have the children you wish you did to even get in the car. Maybe you didn’t want to get in the car. Maybe people came over and stayed far beyond your capacity to entertain them. Oh the joy of the holidays.

Now, you’re invited to come rest in the glow of my colored lights. The couch is cozy, the tea is warm. The company is comfortable. Unwind yourself and lean into the pleasant feeling of having nothing to do. We’ve got nowhere to be and nobody to impress. Lean into the comfort of yourself.

What was really wonderful about the holiday season for you? It could be something big or something so, so small that you didn’t even realize what it meant to you until you really took the time to think about it. Reflect on your season as a whole. It is probably easier to think of all the things that stress us out or things that we feel went wrong, but truly take the time to reflect and find those moments that really felt warm. Let’s take our time. There is no shame in needing to spend more or less time thinking it through. Any event or gathering could produce a moment of comfort. Hold it with you, commit it to your heart. A moment of comfort, a moment of joy.

Can this intention go with you into the New Year? Does it feel good to find pieces of joy in chaos and hold them dear? I’ve been thinking a lot about the years passing. I’ve decided that I don’t think a year is all that long. I find myself surprised that we mark such a blink as a major milestone. What is it about the turn of four seasons that feels lengthy? I couldn’t say. It doesn’t feel long to me at all. Perhaps it’s the end of a cycle that resonates. Either way, I know that it won’t be a “new year, new me” type of feeling this year. I’ll be allowing myself to be soft, needy, slow. To seek the comfort I have denied myself these many years. Have you found yourself doing that? Denying comfort, even when you obviously need it? Let’s give ourselves permission to rest in comfort. Maybe you have something in your life keeping you from being comfortable. Alas, you can still be comforted. And we deserve that, I think. Don’t you?

Together, let’s agree-nay, let’s promise each other, in the gleam of lingering Christmas lights, to allow ourselves to be comforted. To comfort ourselves, even with something as simple as leaving up the tree a little longer, because the lights bring comfort and joy.