As I try to follow my one little word, I’m struck by the different shades of meaning it has. Originally, I struggled with choosing “comfort” as my word because it felt selfish. At least while I was being brave last year, my actions had an impact on others. But “comfort” sounded indulgent, even lazy – and I have a horror of being thought lazy.
I’m realizing, though, that comfort is a verb as well as a noun – it means providing comfort to others, of the physical and metaphorical kinds. For me, it means planning and cooking meals, doing laundry, tending our home. It means listening to friends, encouraging them, dropping a note to say hello. It means shelter, succor, contentment, welcome. It means taking care.
Here in our still-new Boston life, taking care – of myself and others – looks different sometimes than it did in Abilene. It still looks like tea and candlelight and good food; it still looks like giving hugs at church and listening to what’s going on in my husband’s and my friends’ lives. But it also looks like nurturing new friendships. It looks like finding ways to combat the cold during this, our first New England winter. It looks like phone calls and texts and Facebook messages to loved ones in Texas (and other places) who are now far away.
Taking care looks like a way of life, like lots of little efforts that add up to big things – and it also looks, quite often, like bravery. Sending the note; making the call; applying for the job; trying the new recipe or going to the networking event. When I take the risk, I usually end up taking better care, providing more comfort – a beautiful paradox I never expected.
I also hesitated to choose “comfort” because it seemed like the opposite of bravery, in some ways. I didn’t want to do an about-face this year, running away from the parts of life that must be faced bravely. But I wanted to bring some care and nurturing alongside that bravery – for others and for myself. And so far, instead of clashing, my two words are complementing each other nicely.
How do you take care – of yourself or others? I’d love to hear how you welcome care and comfort into your life or home.
cakes, tea and dreams 
This is beautiful, Katie. Taking care is a largely under-rated vocation, mostly I assume because it is associated with the feminine. This is not a feminist rant, just a reality that first survival must be attended to – clean water, shelter, homes free from violence, enough food. After that, we perceive room to nurture, to tend, to comfort. And yet, it is the nurturing, the tending, comforting, that gives us the courage to be brave.
(That went off in a direction I did not expect.)
What I mean to say is: keep on keepin’ on. Comforting yourself and other is important – you will not get to the end of the year and think – wow, I wish I had less comfort this year. I promise.
I come from a long line of Irish grandmothers: I comfort first with food. And tea. And hugs. And chocolate.
Also, stories of when the person I am comforting was funny, or independent, or feeling more successful, or did something to comfort me. These stories help all of us remember our strength and our courage
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