Many are the comforts offered to restore us to enthusiasm and life.
There is the comfort of playtime with children – exploration, fresh vision through the eyes of new earth angels, make-believe and little stories of trial and victory. There is the comfort of the outdoors – with the slow tumbling sky, the sleepy nodding of the flowers in their beds, the gossiping of birds in the branches. There is the comfort of family and friendship – companionship and recognition, familiarity and love in well-established riverbeds.
There is the comfort of food rightly taken – moderation, mindfulness, wholly and only of the garden. There is the comfort of the fast – separation of the body from primary identity, lightness, higher vibration. There is the comfort of music – gentle rhythm, pulsating vibrations of the heart and throat chakras, loss of self in expression. There is the comfort of writing – the initial flood of the Muses, the trimming and pruning, the satisfaction of a graceful turn of phrase.
Meditation and mantras are the comforts of a growing tree in an illuminated plain of light. Om Mani Padme Hum is the very outpouring of being, a human variation of the song of creation being sung by the Holy Father. We can join in the choir, and there is great comfort, presence, and freedom in those waters.
Prayer and the Rosary are the comfort of eternal home. God is approachable in His Fatherhood, His Motherhood, and His Brotherhood. Being living, being open to communication and addressable, the Almighty’s companionship argues against any human trial.
Indeed, there is bountiful comfort in each new day – each new creation of localized self from nothingness, where we rise as once again bidden into the mortal world to trace the line of immortality within time.
But the appearance of suffering children is beyond weariness. It is abject terror. It is the very pit of emotional darkness. In their ways, animals are also children. Their suffering approaches the terror of human children’s suffering, in my heart. All beings suffer as children, but the suffering of children is the very face of the enemy and accuser.
And, just as beyond weariness there is terror, beyond mortal comforts lies the Sacred Heart. Brought to terror, I retreat there. For my strength is insufficient in that place, and I must rely on the strength and compassion of the Holy One then more than other times. In that safe-keeping and divine love lies the ultimate sanctuary. Truly, what is more comforting than wholesale abandonment into God? And what is more bountiful? In abandoning our meager selves so that the Holy Light can flood through us and banish the darkness, we are freed from all weariness and terror.
We are a blessed people, provided with such bountiful comfort. Let us be thankful.