People write things in on our post cards all the time. I always enjoy them. 

But this one...moved me.

Kind of amazing how a casual note left on one of our tables can feel like a stamp of validation that something important is working. Of course we want what all business owners want: for our place to be busy-- hopping, and packed with people-- that's an obvious goal to have in our industry. The less discussed goal (and more important to us by far) is our desire to have our space be one that people want to come because it feels good to be here.

Comfort is that to me. Comfort is a moment of peace, a familiar face or blanket, or feeling that allows you to let your shoulders drop and breathe all the way down into the depths of your abdomen. Who doesn't crave that?

There is this group of people I like to call "everyone" who have this bad habit of relating to comfort the same way we do help: we fear that wanting it means that we're weak in some way. You know- like we want to hang out in raggedy sweat pants all day, be complacent, or play it safe when we should be out adventuring and toughing it out. But if complacency is quietly looking the other way to avoid feeling something, comfort is looking at yourself in the mirror and acknowledging what you need. 

In this moment there is no shortage of things to be concerned about (maybe that's true of all moments). Engaging with the concerns that we have can be incredibly productive so long as we're able to hold onto ourselves in the process. Regular doses of comfort are what bring us back to ourselves and remind us of the things we're out there hazarding ourselves for day to day.

By all means- face life, embrace your curiosity, live into your edges- just do not forsake comfort for yourself along the way.

(and hey, at  least you already know one place where you're likely to find it)