Letter 22: To Comfort

22 February 2012

Dear Comfort

Well I’ve just got to come straight in with the compliments … what a gorgeous word you are; your beautiful cadent form is just gorgeousness personified …

What a glorious gift, what a soft, tender and giving thing you are … yes, the very thought of you makes my heart glad …

One of the many things I love about you Comfort, is the many forms you may manifest in.  You can be a hug or a healing, you can be light or you can be calming, sweet darkness.  Comfort is a recognised voice, a sense of familiarity and of a knowing. 

Comfort too can be a hot drink, a glass of wine, a chunk of chocolate … the kiss of loving, warming food.  Comfort food … mmmmmmmm …  A comfort of sausage and mash wrapped in a gravy of oniony flavour; or of pure cold ice cream caressing the tongue and the throat, melting into sensory pleasure.  A treasure of taste to be savoured and devoured, inhaled and duly digested.

I say, so sincerely Comfort, that I’m very sorry that I am not always faithful to you and am sometimes forgetful of you … I will often toil and trade and treat you like an affair, a guilty pleasure kept secretly for free and forgotten days, when really you are a necessity – my true love, my joy and my ultimate sanity. At those forgetful, regretful times, I push through life, I thrust and force, I cajole and cry.  These are hard things to do my dear Comfort, and yet so often I do them to myself, being my own willing victim, enslaving myself to time, to effort and to (non comforting) reward. 

Now there’s the thing – is comfort a reward or a right?  Is it a luxury or a necessity?  Is it a guilt or a given?  Is it rebellion or heaven? 

Comfort is love, in many faceted forms and love is my birth right, so comfort be mine and let me be true to you.  Ah comfort, how shall I celebrate you?  Simply or in a spa?  I shall take you and make you in all guises and remember to wrap you around me, to share you, to prioritise you, to eulogise you, to practise you frequently and blissfully.  Oh comfort what shall we do?  Let’s make ‘love’ (and yes that can be a comfort too!)

And your form can be gorgeously simple and shape you into new names … here is one of my very favourites … I shall breathe this gently … the breath of a ‘blankie’, yes, the very caress of comfort enveloping me, making the corporeal me less real.  Softness defined into a loving square of comfort and joy, of pride and possession, my very own selfish delight, wrapping and binding me as a gift. Draped and shaped around me, a new me, yielding and melting and slowed … ah comfort.

Comfort be my very own, engaging my senses with ease and grace and gratitude.  Comfort be long, comfort be often, and comfort be continual. 

Comfort be there in the fabric of my being, not sought after when I am sore or tired or lost; for with you there, as my constant companion, there will be more light and less loss, more energy, more fun and more lingering, yellow sun. 

Comfort is complete and utter surrender to a yummy moment of love, an act of complete submissive tenderness; so seek comfort in your surroundings – take yourself to where comfort resides and call it to you, lure it in with love, love for yourself, for your life, for this cradled, cosseted moment.  The moment of heart’s ease, this single eternity of forgetfulness for everything except this delicious, comforting now.

And what is comfort?  Comfort is a thousand things and it is one thing.  It is various and it is simple.  It is common and it is golden.  It can be resting your head on a cat’s purring form, paddling in the sea, listening to beautiful music: lifting you up, resting you down, flattening out the undulations and tribulations of life, filling you up, filling your senses with nonsensical, whimsical joy.  Comfort, you are relaxation, slow tempo, warmth or coolness, gravity geared or stillness.

Comfort you are the very realisation and personification of slow joy; a gift, a treasure, a genuine pleasure.

Ah comfort, I love you and that you love me too is incontrovertible, for you always welcome me in with hugging, open arms and so too now, my dearest one, I’ll embrace you.  Yes, here is my commitment – to comfort and to love.

   Yours sweetly and softly …

      S xx

PS: If you want the comfort of Peachey Letters in book form – follow the link here to find out more…

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