Comfort levels

Comfort levels

What is it that makes you read? Perhaps a similar experience to what makes someone like me write. It is comfortable for me. Well it is now, somewhat. I do not like to write with distractions present, who does right? Good thing we all didn’t learn what I learned at the same time. I will discuss that in some upcoming articles, perhaps.

What is comforting to you may not be comforting to me but is acceptable to me none the less. What is acceptable to me may not be acceptable to you. How do we reach a mutual ‘comfort level’? Compromise of course. Well you do know, that when things are acceptable to you, by the way, it is only you now.

When you have accepted things below your usual limits of comfort, you begin a process of self-compromises “oh I forgot my drink, I will get it later”, “I’m not wearing my purple socks”. I don’t wear purple socks and I just put yours on you. Now you have purple socks. Isn’t this fun.

I don’t have all of my tools tonight nor do I have even close to a ‘comfortable’ writing environment, however I continue to write. I now know 2 things. You look silly in only purple socks, I also made you laugh. I provoked your thoughts in ways, you may or may not figure out. That is why I write, I have adjusted my personal level of comfort, simply by making you smile.

I also have a secondary mission tonight, you see to write more comfortably, I need to learn how to write, I know right. I will be writing to the largest audiences we have ever seen. I see oceans of people learning, living. Before we all see that, I have much to do, as you should have just imagined. I recently discovered I am good at writing, not notes and codes and what nots.

I can write feelings, I can write true stories, I of course can make things up, I can even mix it all up. I understand that. It’s when I can ‘focus’ my energy and put it into just one word. It releases upon you and becomes part of you. How comfortable are you now?

Well, to be honest, you do look silly in those purple socks. You can keep them, I don’t want them back now. No, they don’t stink, they are yours now. If you remember the purple socks anytime next week and beyond, be sure to write me back and tell me about it.