We all have our comfort zones. Those places that take us away from ourselves for a while, or place us in the middle of ourselves without distractions. Wholly dependent upon character they are a haven, a solitude, an outlet and a reorganisation of the brain to complete or attempt to complete the other things we have to do. Even sleep can be seen as a comfort zone as a friend at boarding school used to tell me, ‘bedtime’ was the very best time of day.
We can argue I suppose as to why comfort zones are needed, respected and desired and wonder what on earth we are doing not to inhabit them all the time, but I think living is not about comfort but the striving for comfort. Not about the knowledge we seek but the seeking and what we do when we have it. The journey as much as the destinations. It is all in the balance, and those moments of reflection and change help our balance.
The reason politics doesn’t work well is because of its lack of balance.
So when the rain passes as it is today after glorious weeks of sunshine it it not something to draw out complaints, but something to cherish for its own sake. For giving the day a different complexion and adding to the contours of our lives. For telling us that change is nature’s habit, and we are in her comfort zone.