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The Cost of Comfort

Mainstream American culture is addicted to security, convenience and comfort. Ads of all kinds bombard us endlessly, promising products and services that will please, excite, satisfy, comfort or reassure us just the way we like. In short, they're selling a fantasy. Life is not always comfortable, secure or convenient. It is often messy, uncertain, fragile, confusing and unpredictable.

 What is the cost of our dependence on comfort, security and convenience? In addition to the strain on our wallets, what is it costing the earth, our bodies, our communities, our souls?

 I don't want to get extreme about this, but it might not hurt to allow myself to experience a bit of discomfort or to live with a minor inconvenience rather than buy something to "fix" it. If consumerism is the belief that the solution to every problem or the fulfillment of every need ends with a purchase, I could try instead to imagine solutions and satisfactions that don't involve acquiring another product.

 A small example that I've recently begun experimenting with is turning to my public library, rather than to Amazon or even a local bookstore, when I want something new to read. The selection may not be as vast or eclectic, but the books are free and only temporarily take up space in my home. Plus, I believe there is actually a benefit to the limitation of choice. Since consumerism entails the proliferation of preferences and the cultivation of discontent, any attempt to limit my options and accept what is offered can gradually uproot these insidious tendencies and teach me appreciation and gratitude.

 And learning to be appreciative and grateful can bring true comfort when life's inevitable challenges come my way.
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