There are things in life that are better than comfort. To be challenged, and to succeed. To find meaning and fulfilment. To be at peace with oneself. To love another person.
But comfort is worthwhile in itself, too.
And it can unlock a state of mind — a sense of safety, a feeling of warmth, a patience with the noise of the world — that makes the hurdles of life seem a little less ominous.
I came home at the end of a long day, and I was feeling anxious and uneasy. I didn’t know how to get out of my head. I had a thought that, perhaps, I’d never find happiness again.
It’s strange how that happens. How I can be happy one day, and then get caught up in my thoughts and be there for even just a couple of hours, but already assume I’ll never get out.
With night approaching, I was feeling tired and drained, so I took a hot shower. I can’t say that I decided to run the shower or that I was aware of what I was doing as I turned the tap on. It was more like I was immersed in the thoughts in my head for ten minutes, and then suddenly I was out of the shower — essentially subconscious for its entire duration.
I walked out of the bathroom and went to my bedroom, and there I saw a pair of slippers sitting in front of my bedside table. The slippers were black on the outside, and lined with white wool on the inside. They were low in length, not reaching any higher than my ankles.
I’d bought them for forty dollars earlier that day.
I’d bought them from a man named Hans Jnr who has dedicated his life to making slippers and ugg boots. Before him, his father — Hans Snr — dedicated his life to doing the same.
The Hans family has been making boots since 1977.
At a time when it’s all-too-easy to go to big shopping centres and buy a dizzying assortment of products from salespeople who have nothing to do with making them, it was refreshing to buy a pair of slippers from Hans.
It made me feel good.
Trapped in my head later that day, I walked over to the new slippers in front of my bedside table and put them on for the first time. They slipped on easily, effortlessly, and as I snuggled my feet inside and felt the warm sensation of wool, I had a spontaneous feeling of joy and relief.
In putting on my new slippers, the thoughts in my head faded away, my concerns and worries evaporated, and I remembered to breathe again.
Life was beautiful.
The world was wonderful.
A feeling of elation stayed with me for the rest of the night, and all through the next day.
Aren’t slippers a small miracle?
We’re surrounded by the objects we’ve bought. A few are basic necessities we need to survive. Many are more discretionary purchases which reflect our values and preferences. These lend our homes a distinct colour and character, they can support us to pursue our interests and passions, and they can help us to connect more meaningfully with others.
It’s wonderful to enjoy material things, and the stories behind them and the ways they reflect our unique characteristics can add an emotional richness and beauty to our lives.
How much meaning is conveyed by a teddy dinosaur, or a print of Picasso’s Guernica, or a sleek carbon road bike, or a set of origami paper planes hanging off an old wooden lampshade?
Still, I’m sceptical that, if someone’s basic needs are already met, acquiring more and more possessions will make them happier in a lasting way. Have many times have we all bought something only to find that our feeling of joy quickly faded and was replaced by a new desire? And how easy is it to fall into the trap of believing that we are what we own — our house, our car, or our shoes — and then to tie our sense of self-worth to external things?
Is anything truly ours anyway?
Nor do I think that always seeking comfort — whether by sticking to a familiar routine, or shying away from a challenge, or buying a new pair of slippers — is the best way to learn more about oneself or the world. To grow, to discover, to explore all that life has to offer — this requires curiosity, imagination and having the courage to venture into the unknown.
How can you discover there’s nothing to fear — and then not forget your discovery — if you remain in a state of perpetual comfort?
“Do what scares you,” as a counsellor once told me.
Still, it’s wonderful to put on a warm pair of slippers just before winter. It’s wonderful to lie down on the couch and re-watch your favourite series. It’s wonderful to cook a meal you’ve loved ever since you were a little kid. It’s wonderful to embrace all those things that bring a sense of cosiness and warmth and inner contentment.
Maybe it’s best simply to be grateful for the small comforts of life.
Soulful Thoughts 