What makes us safe?

What makes us safe?

This is a huge question posed by an email correspondent after the January Modest Proposal. It is also an excellent inquiry for me personally at this time, and I think, is for most of you at one time or another. What does make us safe?

I think the beginning of the answer to the question lies with first looking at what makes us fear thereby creating the desire to feel safe. This is an aspect of humankind that is very fascinating to me, and lies, I think, at the very core of how we behave, day-to-day, even moment-by-moment. It is also the major block to loving acceptance of ourselves and others. So, if I live each day responding to big and small fears, what are the consequences? We all know them: anxiety, anger, frustration, hopelessness, helplessness – in short, a feeling of not being “safe.”

Let’s leave the fear part for a moment and deal with what is safe? Am I ever safe, really? Wherever I go, whatever I do involves risk. I could get struck by an oversized meteor, have a stroke or heart attack, or in the area where I live, serve as lunch for a mountain lion. In short, my physical body is never free of risk. Risk is omnipresent. Are fear and risk the same thing? No.

Risk is a given constant for human beings; fear is a reaction to the consciousness of risk. It is a story that I make up about WHAT might happen when I don’t know what IS going to happen. What I make up is usually more dire than what actually happens. With physical risk, I know the outcome: if I survived, what was the damage, if any, to my body? The results are simple to determine.

Other than driving, I don’t encounter many physical risks - haven’t seen a mountain lion yet. I do encounter psychological risks daily and frequently. “We need to talk,” is something that many of us have heard from bosses or lovers. It is an innocuous enough phrase and may simply be about finishing a report or taking out the trash, and there are all kinds of other stories forecasting what it “really means.” I choose a story that aligns with my judgments about my unworthiness, and I am suddenly fearful, anticipating the worst that could happen. What makes me safe?

FIRST, I have to recognize that there is no absolute physical safety for me as a human being. I can minimize my physical risk by not doing foolish things like saluting a gang of bikers with a common street gesture. How you and I live our lives in the physical world can be performed with the recognition of the inherent risks and their acceptance. If I drive on a fast, crowded freeway, there is a chance that I will have an accident. Does that mean I should not drive on the freeway? No. It does mean that I can take measures to decrease the risk. I can have my car in safe condition, drive vigilantly, and not do anything dangerous like talking on my mobile phone while driving.

Fear can be present if I make up stories about what may happen while driving. If I tell myself they are just stories, and I don’t know what will happen, BUT more than likely I will arrive safely at my destination. Looking at the probable outcome instead of the fear-generated worst case adds to my sense of safety albeit does not make it guaranteed.

SECOND, I know that psychological risks pose a far greater challenge than physical ones for the simple reason that I often do not quickly know the outcome of risky psychological situations IF I ever know at all. I may need to tell someone something that I think will not be well received. I invent a fear story about the person’s reaction, and that alone may cause me to procrastinate and perhaps, if I can avoid doing so, never say what I need to say. This can go on literally for years. The fear engendered by the risk never goes away until the reason I need to say something is resolved, and the outcome is finally known. What then makes me safe?

I think there are several answers to that. I speak only for myself.

If I believe that ultimately my spiritual body cannot be harmed and is never truly at risk, then any human, earthly calamity that befalls me is only temporary and is really of no consequence. If I can remind myself in the moment of my fear that I am reacting to a story that is most likely fiction, not fact, then I can realistically look at the risk and accept it for what it is, not what I make up about it. In short, if I can recall that I am a spiritual being having a human existence, then I know that I am ultimately safe from physical and psychological risks. That is what makes me safe.

Be well,
Ron McCray