I have some words that I wrote in a journal years ago,
There is no comfort in growth,
And no growth in comfort.
Curious words I put together.
I suppose they are partly true.
But they are not the whole truth. (Is it ever really?)
Because if we can allow ourselves to trust the growth, to know that it is uncomfortable but that we will emerge from the other side changed, transmorphed, evolved in some way big or small – but in all ways important – then we can find some shade of comfort in it.
The growth then lives beside the comforts.
The growth – and discomfort – is not the only visitor to this room of Now.
The sunshine and the moon flow. The dirt and the breeze breathe. The warm fire and the cooling, smooth waters swirl. The aliveness of nature and humans all around us churns now as for time immemorial. A soft blanket; warm and perfumed bath waters; the taste of a meal made with love and care; the words of a wise teacher; the sound of a familiar song; the company of a friend or stranger with kind, seeing eyes; the space between the branches in the trees towering above; the magic knowing of a plant that contracts at night and opens in the morning; the photographs of days gone by filled with joy and innocence; the hot cup of tea; the relics of past travels on a shelf.
Look around you.
Right now, look around.
All of this lies side by side with the growth.
With the change.
That is ever there from seed placed in dirt spun into fruit suspended in air.
Supported by the grace of comforts that feed from bottom up into
and top down into
There might not be comfort in growth and there might not be growth in comfort.
But there is – undoubtedly – comfort surrounding growth and – as we evolve this awareness and trust – growth in our deep knowing of comfort.
Look wisely. Look quietly. Just wait. See more.
Take such good care,