Coming up in artistic spaces, I remember the increased emphasis on the idea of ‘safe spaces.’ That there could be a singularity in this, that a space could be universally safe for everyone, and that safety was a fixed point was an inherently problematic idea and sentiment. Over years through organizing, people started to change the words into an idea of ‘brave’ space, the hope that a space could be brave enough to have difficult conversations, to meet the changing and ever-evolving needs of safety for those who were involved.
Safety is a difficult one for so many of us. So many of us have had a hard time feeling safe in the world, safe in our families, safe in our relationships and in our communities. I used to think of safety as a fixed point—this person is safe, this space is safe, this gathering of individuals is safe. Safety felt like a much sought after illusion, time and time again I felt myself asking the universe: where can I go where my heart is safe? Where can I meet safety?
Over the past year, seeing multiple genocides take place, the idea of safety feels laughable. What does my safety mean when there is no safety for children born in Palestine? Where people in Sudan are facing one of the biggest hunger crisis in the world? Where children are being forced into slavery in the Congo for cellphones? What is safety, and whose safety is only guaranteed by the theft of another’s life force, of harm being caused and inflicted to another?
Due to colonization, there’s the unchecked idea—almost assumption—that safety can only come from theft. That someone sees another’s life, wealth, love, relationship to land and community and says—that. I want THAT. And instead of going about the work of cultivating those qualities in oneself, that person decides that they must theft the safety that they see, they must theft the life that they want. And of course, there’s always justifications for this, sweet justifications that sound so deeply compelling and are often based in a victim mentality, scarcity and greed, but the energy is clear: I did not want to do the work to be in right relationship with all parties involved, I did not want to do the work to face myself and consider my own blocks to safety and belonging, and so I decided to take what I could in whatever way I could, and then justify why that was okay.
We see this so often—settlers in America whose family have histories of Indigenous genocide, yet then wear / appropriate Indigenous culture, knowledge, and clothes. Settlers in Israel demanding their right to Palestinian territory, making up plans to create luxury homes on the Gaza strip while the Israeli army genocides an unfathomable number of people in order to provide that fantasy. The appropriation of Black culture amid the simultaneous terror of anti-Black racial violence. And on interpersonal levels-- people who claim to be spiritual but then have no issue in contributing to the hurt of others while not being able to look at themselves and take accountability. The examples are countless.
So much of this can be boiled down to unhealthy ideas of safety. Ie, someone feels unsafe and in scarcity, and instead of doing the work to address that in themselves, they choose to try and theft the perceived safety or perceived abundance of another. They don’t understand the components that led to that safety and abundance, so they mimic it in whatever way they can. Then, instead of sitting with what they did, they create a narrative about why that action was okay, and they start to contribute and add to the momentum of why that decision was fine. However, there’s still a hollow-ness inside, a performance of safety and abundance rather than a true understanding. So, the energy doesn’t settle, because they also can’t acknowledge the full scope of what happened. Then, they create a whole world of narratives of that, and attempt to control, stomp down, and diminish any counter narratives of what existed before, or why their behavior is harmful.
Recently, I had the experience of having my ideas of safety being shattered by experiencing people who I trusted lacking consideration of me, and moving in a way that deeply hurt me. When I addressed the hurt, the behavior not only continued, but escalated. I found myself feeling deeply unsafe, and turned towards spirit and prayer to help. In this aftermath, I’m in the process of redefining safety for myself, and realizing that safety is one that I am cultivating with myself, spirit, my guides and the land, without the interference of others. And just the realization that there’s no ability to control other or how they treat you. Their willingness and ability to show up for you, or for what they say they believe in, is on them. And all you can do is continue to be in alignment with your own integrity, and do what you need to do to create safety for yourself. This has been a deeply profound process, as has the other relationships that have come into my life to help support. It’s a complete reorientation of safety, as well as a renewal of faith in the relationships where people do see you in pain, where they can listen to what you are saying, and where they can show up for that hurt and care. It’s the reminder that if you shift your gaze slightly, that there’s a window in the betrayal, there’s safety just beyond what you might be experiencing as a limit in your life, there’s safety that can be built outside of hurt, by those who are willing to listen.
A way that I have been able to understand if I can begin the work of building safety with someone is seeing if their actions are in alignment with their words. If they are working, diligently, towards bridging the gap of what they say and what they do. If they are working, diligently, to honoring the integrity that they claim to want for themselves, versus taking shortcuts, loopholes, or the easy way out. This is hard, because sometimes we all have our moments or operate in shadow, or from the places we can’t always recognize in ourselves. Sometimes, we all just need spaces of relief. But once the harm you have caused or your shadow has been mirrored back to you—do you shut down/ discard it/ dismiss it? Or do you take the mirror and ask, what’s here that needs tending, and how do I begin folding this new awareness into me so that I might not unconsciously spill this on the people around me?
Safety is not a fixed place, but a journey, a shared moment that can exist when we meet each other in deep vulnerability, where we can call on the spirits around us to help us move through towards a path towards safety, and understanding. I’ve been humbled by the relationships throughout my life, the cycles of attraction, stress, purpose, betrayal, forgiveness, accountability, and reconciliation that occur in relationships that actually allow for the building of safety—when one is able to navigate conflict with another and feel that the other is listening, showing up, and coming in the energetic of care, we create safety. And that safety isn’t a thing that lasts forever—it’s a thing that needs tending, that needs prayer, that needs sweet cultivation. It requires patience, love, difficult conversations, working on oneself, and the complete dissembling of ego and selfishness. It’s saying—yes, this, you, value to me, and I’m willing to fix the things in myself that prevent me from seeing you, and I’m willing to show up at the edge of what I know relationship to be so that I might be able to tend to the connection we share, I am willing to go at the pace of trust in order for us both to live our lives beautifully and fully.
There’s a line I love in a Terence Hayes poem that says “Never mistake what it is for what it looks like.” It’s easy to sit on the outside of someone’s life and say—that. That’s what I want. Without actually accounting for what it means for that person to show up for all the parts of their life and tend to it, to cultivate the safety that they need in order to be in relationship with others, to build out their home and career and whatever kind of stability that they can in order to show up with their gifts to the world.
Let us take our safety and the safety of other’s more seriously. Let us see this as a joint venture, rather than disparate and separate ones. Let us never mistake what it is for what it looks like. Let us more towards cultivating integrity in ourselves, knowing that leads to integrity in all our relationships.