This weeks ‘weekly prompts’ is about comfort. I have found over the years that the meaning of comfort has changed, for me anyway. These days, it’s an old pair of worn out slippers. I know once I’ve got them on I have true comfort.
In my working life, I would often have to work long nightshifts. They were hard, especially the first night shift of the week after a two week run of working days. However, every cloud has a silver lining and getting into bed on a Tuesday morning after a tough Monday night was true comfort. You soon forgot about the rigours that the previous 12 hours had inflicted on you as you descended into the most perfect sleep ever.
As a teenager, my comfort was sitting in my bedroom at my parents’ house, playing my guitar. I would lose myself knowing that I was doing something that I wanted to do. Sometimes, I would be in total darkness so I could learn the chords and positions on the neck without looking. I still do that today, it has stuck with me. The memory of my Dad shouting up to my room, “You’ll go melancholy in there, have a rest!” It was my comfort though, knowing that whatever the world threw at me, I could always go home and play my guitar.
Down By The River
School was not a happy time for me. I would turn up and at the last second head for the local playing field. There was a small river that ran through and a cut out in the bank that was a perfect hiding place for a naughty schoolboy playing the ‘wag’. A comfort zone, where I could daydream, listening to nothing but the flow of the river and the birdsong. At 14 years old, that was my comfort.