Somewhere Over The Rainbow

I have a favorite sweater, which I refer to as my housecoat. Actually, I have two favorites. One I’ve had for more than fifteen years. I originally found it on a clearance rack at Macy’s for approximately $7.00 or less, making me feel good to have found such a bargain. It’s a turquoise green, leaning more to the green side with decorative scissor-cut edges much like you’d see a crafter use when cutting felt, in fact it sort of resembles felt. It’s soft and light weight, has a collar with the same clipped edges and finished-rib-sewn cuffs which open and close with a button; normally I forget the button, leaving them open and roll the sleeves up and down, which is a must since my personal climate heats up and cools down so frequently these days. It was love at first sight for this house jacket and me… jacket because it’s shorter than the more recently acquired housecoat. It reminds me of my grandmother, not exactly sure why; she didn’t have anything resembling this except her skin was just as soft. She had baby soft cheeks and they were always a perfect mildly cool temperature. I used to take this jacket everywhere and still travel with it today because it is my “geen banky”, which really means, it is a reliable source of comfort and keeps me warm when I need a light wrap and, it’s lightweight enough to sleep in, to drape over like a throw or even hold for security. It’s not only fleecy but is also fluffy and so light I can cover my head with it, without feeling like I’m suffocating under a heavy blanket. I do remember Grandma’s cheeks being softly supple and fluffy, but definitely not fleecy!  Maybe I like this jacket so much because, though we’ve made our own memories, it reminds my senses of getting a hug from Grandma.

My new housecoat is a white/gray mix of oversized, fluffy, fleecy, just-below-the-knee-length sweater with good-sized pockets. The jacket has 2 pockets also, but they’re on the chest and much smaller, however they are fine for toting lip balm while I’m lounging around. The new one holds my hair tie, lip balm and hands if they’re feeling chilly (I told you, I’m my own climate changer!). It also acts as a more appropriately sized throw… bigger and longer. While the fabric feels similar, this one looks much more like a long sweater, is also extremely lightweight for all of it’s bulk and feels closer to a fleece-like fabric with more of a classic knit styling; no crafty edgery, however it has washed up to a well worn, fuzzy look fitting for a much adored and lived in friend; similar to the look of a well loved scruffy pup with mussed up hair from petting massages and snuggles.

Counting on comfort is important. We’ve all had some item we’ve relied on, which at some point was used up, discarded or disappeared etc. It can be disappointing, especially when it’s not replaceable or, not replaced with an equivalent or improved model, despite the brand claims. Heck, I feel bad when all the goodies I baked are gone because of the time involved in making more! However, the grimmest of disappointments is having counted on people for comfort and been left with the uncomfortable feelings of being used, discarded or disregarded and unsupported from being deserted etc., when they’ve withdrawn. When the goodies are gone, they’re gone for good; in order to move on, we must believe it is for our own good.

When relationships are disbanded, it seems there is always a question of one or the other taking someone for granted, just as taking for granted all of the other blessings (goods) in life which are too numerous to count, even daily. It’d be nice if we could and did count them. We might find when we feel we’ve lost goods; we are given a bounty of goodness, even when we aren’t noticing. For the continual drama in needing so much comfort throughout our lives, it can seem like we live a long time; though our memory of comfort can be short-lived. We are addicted to the feeling of comfort and that memory is running at top speed in our souls causing us to look everywhere for it as if trying to remember when we last saw it. When we run across something like it, we cling for dear life until that good is gone too; when it too leaves us, we are often left whimpering about aimlessly, wondering what happened and why it happened, especially when it seemed… so good! Now on the rebound, we are bound in the getting of the new and improved good; because while wrapped up in comfort, we were deceived into believing it was there for us, at least at arms length and within our reach if and when we wanted it. It’s this perceived comfort we’re seeking until we die; that feeling of “good”; the feeling we have when we don’t notice frustrations; when we forget them and feel like all is well and good. It’s funny how much we use that word, which seems to be a word we are unable to clearly define. We could say, it’s when we find a favorable condition or position for ourselves; rather, it’s the position of ourselves in which good is found and we attach ourselves to it hopefully, for good. So, we could also say, from now on, for the time being and, for the rest of time is, good… thus, forever is good… so then, what is favorable forever is good.

What about favorable, how do we define favor? It’s our preferred state; we always want to be and find ourselves in favorable conditions. We want to be favored or approved of; to be accepted; thus we want unending acceptance so we feel good, always. In part, our not accepting ourselves may be behind some of the drive to find the “feel-goods”.   We begin at birth crying out for comfort, Mom reacts (and Dad, if you had one, a “good” one, which goes for Mom too; let’s assume Mom’s a “good” one). Mom reacts by finding some way to make you feel good, usually giving you something: cuddles, coddles and goodies… the pacifier, toys, nourishment, etc. This is a trigger when we do not feel so good; our having previously felt good throws us into the never satiating throes of a quest for what we never outgrow, nor get over… our wanting to feel good. It’s the sense of wellbeing we’re after.  We’re like sharks swimming and floating along, devouring prey we come upon for self gratification    what we pray for; that which is sent our way and seems good to us… problem is, we’re chasing rainbows.

A rainbow forms a circle, which is only partially visible from each perspective and carries with it the connotation of an unrealistic ideal or does it? Who wouldn’t want to follow the rainbow to its famed pot of gold if its inference was legit? Well, some have tried, which is how we know we’re only seeing light’s reflection and bends through a screen of water droplets allowing us to only see a rainbow if the light is behind us causing the light to refract. This light altering can change our mood too, diverting us to our latest pursuit of happiness or, at least causing our thinking about our finding happiness. The mythic rainbow tale may be in regards to what brings us true happiness, as most fables seem to insinuate; usually beginning with a quest for or by finding monetary riches of some sort, having associated this with feeling good and being well, i.e., well cared for and taken care of before deflecting the story onto caring for others and caring about others (a common story moral) bringing to light the life altering happiness of true riches affording us comfort. In the USA, we have the right to pursue happiness, within the confines of the law, of course. However, we have no right to be happy. It’s a “good” thing we can pursue happiness, because that is what we were born to do, over and over and… somewhere over the rainbow because we haven’t found our pot of happy, yet. From the lifetime’s worth of colorful and reward promising prospects we chase, we are compelled to keep on trying to reach a jackpot so we can feel good. While in pursuit, at any time and, right at home, I can count on at least 2 arms for comfort, which makes me feel good, truly enriching my life; but the two arms I count as most valuable and regard as the greatest of riches are those reaching for me.


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