I spend a great deal of my life being uncomfortable. I’m an introvert whose job involves talking to people all day long. I live with OCD, which includes intrusive thoughts. I am not out at work, so I spend a great deal of time cross-dressing.
Most of the time I want comfort – my warm and warded apartment, the company of my spouse, and so on. Sometimes I don’t, though. Sometimes I think want to roll out of my comfy bed and lay on the hard floor for a little while.
I’m just not very good at comfortable religion. If I’m not actively working on something, letting someone push me out of my comfort zone, I start to worry. It’s a little pathological, I’ll admit, but it’s how I function. My gods never seem to lack a project for me when I go looking – something always turns up. So when I don’t go looking I worry that I’m missing something.
I often run into people who only want to find comfort in religion. If that’s what works for you, I think that’s great. I’m envious, honestly. I find a significant amount of comfort, and I enjoy it. I wish comfort, well, comforted me more often.
Sometimes I need to be willing to push myself, and when I need that and I can’t do it for myself, my gods seem more than happy to kick my ass for me.