I’ve begun to wake in the morning before the alarm, but it’s not because I’m adequately rested.  

It’s because my body now tenses at the impending sense of its noise, letting me know another a day has somehow, uneventfully arrived.

I cannot move from the bed, but I’m not even sure it’s because I’m so tired, although there’s no doubt that I’ve ever been this exhausted. Rather, my skin is drunk on the softness of the sheets, the fact that I need not do any work to lay there, and the warmth this moment – and my partner’s body – provides.

The cocoon is both cozy and secure.

Left to my own devices, it would be an ideal place to hide.

And so begins my daily cravings for comfort. An insatiable need for soothing that has become my baseline, as I subconsciously hold my breath atop this precipice we now call life.

It applies to my morning cup of coffee. To the sweats I deliberately choose to put on instead of jeans. To the glass of wine I pour in the evening despite vowing just hours earlier I wouldn’t do so.  

Because, you know, one of these days, I’m going to turn the damn page.

But no. I can’t turn the page because I’m done letting “shoulds” dictate my days in a world where norms simply no longer apply.

Yes, I should be working out instead of savoring my bed in the morning.

Yes, I should be dressing for purpose instead of in pajama bottoms.

Yes, I should probably go a night without cracking open a bottle of wine.

But as our existence continues to be shaped by things that we didn’t ask for, is it wrong to give ourselves what we really, truly need?

 Is it “bad” to simulate the hugs we’re dying to give? And receive?

Lord knows I’ve built a platform focused on teaching people how to care for themselves. So, in no way, am I suggesting we throw all caution to the wind and eat, drink and indulge ourselves into a state of oblivion.

Quite the contrary, this is not about numbness or self medicating, but rather actually feeling – albeit temporarily – a sense of comfort.

Because I don’t know about you, but I need a reminder of how that feels, like a trip down memory lane to another time. It soothes my soul in the moment and gives me hope that at some point, this on-edgeness will become a thing in the rearview mirror, ultimately losing its grip on our bodies and minds.  

So watch the mindless television. Stay in bed a little longer. And yes, if it suits your fancy, pour yourself a glass of wine.

But do it deliberately with intention and be sure to savor every moment of it.

Make comfort a choice.

And for the record, I put on pants with a zipper yesterday. And heels. Because I felt like I should.

Guess what? It didn’t make me feel any different.

But I literally could feel my body sigh when I got home and peeled that crap off.