Frankly, I don’t think that a comfortable life is either possible or worthwhile. Discomfort, in some form, is a natural feature of existence. Sure, we have periods of relative comfort mixed in with the discomfort, but comfort doesn’t last (and even just knowing this makes us uncomfortable).
It is possible, though, to make your peace with discomfort. This involves letting go of the idea that discomfort means things are wrong, so that garden-variety discomfort doesn’t trigger your anxiety alarms.
It’s a little like getting used to eating spicy food. Your first exposures to that burning sensation in your mouth trigger a panic response. With more and more exposure, though, you stop feeling threatened by it even the actual sensation is just as strong (or stronger). Your tongue hasn’t become less sensitive; it’s just that you’ve learned to relax into the sensation. You’ve made your peace with it. You’ve come to appreciate that having an element of discomfort mixed into your eating experience can make it richer.
I’m not saying that abject misery is a good thing, just that a life of unalloyed comfort is not realistic.