Tidings of Comfort and Joy

I've been thinking a lot this holiday season about that particular song lyric, and how it seems to sum up all that I most want in life, and all that I'm finding difficult to achieve right now. It's not that I don't have moments of feeling comfortable and joyful, but they've been in short supply as of late, and so the search continues.

The thing is that in many ways, I *do* have a comfortable life. I have a cute apartment with lots of soft pillows and good smelling candles, and I take a hot bath every night with sweet pea scented bubbles. For Christmas my mom got me a crock pot and a panini press, so I've now more ways then ever to make yummy, warm food to have with a glass of red wine. I have two cats who love to cuddle, and a heater that is noisy but effective. Physically, there is no reason for me to feel any discomfort whatsoever, really. But there's a hole, and I feel it, and it does in fact cause me to feel uncomforted in some really important way.

As for joy, until fairly recently in my life (within the last couple years), I hadn't really figured out how to truly experience or embrace it at all. I wasn't sure I even had the right tools with which to feel purely happy. I am very, very blessed to have learned I was wrong about that. But true joy, the kind that brings tears to your eyes and makes your skin tingle, is so rare. I haven't felt it for a while, and I miss it tremendously. Now that I know it's possible, it's hard to be without it. It turns out that a lot of the things that bring me deep comfort are also the things that bring me the biggest joy, and it's my greatest wish for myself, and for others, that those things come around once again to the places where they are lacking.