One thing about disabled life that I don't think many non-disabled people realize is that we live with some amount of discomfort or chronic pain every single day. How we learn to live with this pain, and in many cases, don't just live, but thrive, is a testament to the strength of the disabled that is often not acknowledged in our society. But realized or not, it exists: a sore back, joint pain, pressure sores, muscles spasms, the list goes on.

Speaking for myself, the chronic pains I live with are simply a part of me, and I don't even really think about it on a conscious level. It's like it's there, but not there, if that makes sense. Or, to put it another way, you know when you go to the doctor, they ask you where your pain is on the smiley face pain scale? Well, for me, my baseline would be three smiley faces to the right of pain-free.

So, it got me recently thinking if I must live with some level of daily discomfort, why not be more intentional about focusing on things that can ease that discomfort? And I am not just talking about an orthopedic pillow or taking an extra pain pill (not that I have anything against such interventions. If you need the pillow, use it. If you need the medication, take it.)

What I am referring to is leaning into a momentary state of being: feeling comfort. In some ways, it sounds so ridiculously simple. So simple in fact, I think it is easy to overlook the rewards of what creating intentional comfort can provide. Sometimes this involves modifying our environment, and other times it involves fulling a temporary need.

The following is an example in my life where I asked myself how I could be more comfortable and then created a solution for that need.

I like to write in bed. Sometimes at night, but mainly in the mornings. The problem is, for the longest time, I didn't have a way to do that. There was no comfortable position for me to use my iPad or laptop and sit in bed. Because of my disability, I can't sit up. Well, I can't sit up unassisted, and I definitely can't do it comfortably for long periods. Additionally, I need to be on my ventilator (sleep breathing machine) when lying down. My body simply has to work too hard to breathe, lying without it for even a short amount of time, especially at the end of a long day.

After many attempts using different mounts and accessories, I finally found a successful solution. I found a relatively inexpensive tablet mount on Amazon and secured it to our bed's headboard with zip ties (side note: I LOVE zip ties!) It is secure, adjustable, and very functional. I connect my Bluetooth keyboard to the iPad and then type with the keyboard on my lap. Because of this arrangement, I have been much more productive with my writing. And when I'm not writing, I can watch videos, listen to music, or do other tasks, all while being comfortable! And that is, I think comfort is one of the most highly overlooked and underappreciated states of being as a human.

Think about it for a minute. For all things we can't control in life, something we can't predict about the future and all the painfully complicated struggles we face— what is the one thing we can experience the most IN THE MOMENT? Comfort. Am I hot? Am I cold? Am I thirsty? Is the TV too loud? Does that picture on the wall bring me joy or cause me stress? Every day there are a million experiences we have. Some are easier to change than others. But I believe we can be much more proactive agents of creating comfort— no demanding comfort— than we currently are.

But arriving at this state of mind takes a lot of self-awareness, and it also takes a healthy dose of self-esteem and stubbornness. You have to be willing to ask yourself the get-real questions, believe that you are worthy of the best, and not give up until you get there.

A fun fact about me is that I love watching reruns of 80s and 90s television shows. I recently finished re-watching Cheers on Netflix. In the last scene of the series, Sam and the rest of the gang are sitting around the bar smoking cigars and contemplating the meaning of life. Cliff's answer: comfortable shoes. Sure, that answer can get a cheap laugh for its over-simplicity, but comfortable shoes are essential for a mail carrier!

Which underscores the point that, of course, comfort is subjective. Comfort will mean different things to different people. And it is unrealistic to think comfort can be achieved at all times. But shouldn't that be the goal? Because at the end of the day, isn't that what matters? There are so many things I can't control. But I can control how my home functions for me, how my fuzzy socks keep my feet warm, how this tablet suspended over my head allows me to comfortably type this blog post.

Indeed, I don't know if any of these things are the meaning of life, but I absolutely believe they mean something.