🌊 Building Inner Safety in Unsafe Times
some reflections on cultivating the only kind of safety that can remain, no matter what else is going on
This is one of my main core life philosophies: Whatever is happening in my external life and the wider world, my safe place is inside, in how I relate to myself.
I sure won’t find a sense of safety in the news (!) or in trying to make things go well in my day-to-day life. As I’ve written before (like in my essay “Where Do We Look for Safety?”), the only kind of safety that can remain no matter what else is going on—whatever the river brings—is the inside kind, from being aligned with myself.
Here are some further reflections on this theme, because I benefit from writing about it, and maybe it can benefit you too.
Inner safety practices that are helping me lately
I build safety inside my mind by (as I wrote recently in my “Essays on Self-relating” series):
listening to my feelings (“Cultivating an Inner Observer”) — noticing and acknowledging how I’m feeling (for example, overwhelmed, stressed, overstimulated, exhausted, anxious, upset, etc.)
speaking kindly to myself (“Comforting your Inner Child”) — such as, “I hear that you’re feeling ____. I know that’s so hard. Let’s get through it together. Would you like to tell me more about it? / What can I do to help?”
reaching for mind-nourishment (“Creating an Inner Sanctuary”) — seeking out positive mind-food—which for me may include:
writing (like now!)
reading/consuming meaningful content, from writers whose work makes me feel more connected and clear-minded (some of my current favorites are Brittney Hartley and Parker J. Palmer)
listening to music — any, but especially my own songs, which I wrote for my own self-help purposes!
As an example, my mind cleared significantly the other day when I heard this line in my song “Shut the Door” (which I’m hoping to rerecord sometime for better musical/vocal quality): “For I won’t find peace out there—only in here.” My brain had been trying to problem-solve a situation as if my life depended on it, when really, that decision didn’t ultimately matter—what did matter was how I related to myself!
Putting it all together, and on an even more personal level, self-help for me lately often takes the form of visualizing my inner child (whose name is Writer) in her inner sanctuary (her “Tower Room”) being cared for by her also-me helpers (such as a big guy called Bouncer who guards the door to the Tower Room!). :-)
In the “let’s see what we can do to help” part of checking on my inner child, something lately that has been emerging is to look into ways I can mindfully take action in response to my feelings of dismay about the brutality I am hearing about in the news—for example, writing and calling my congress representatives. I tend to feel like that will be fruitless, given that I live in a deeply red state, but I think my inner child would feel a lot better if I try anyway!
What practices help you feel more connected with yourself? (Truly, I’d love to hear!)
Inner Unsafety
By contrast, here are the old-way patterns of self-relating that I am trying to NOT do:
pressuring and hassling myself (to get more done, keep everyone happy, be perfect…)
ignoring, suppressing, distracting from, and/or coping around my actual feelings
enmeshing with the contents of events, conditions, and/or people in my life—linking my sense of wellbeing to how things go with them
The new way is to listen kindly to the feelings of my inner child and ask what I can do to help—like someone who loves me.
Like someone who loves me
I highly recommend this as a general coping strategy: if you have somebody in your life who is a consistent voice in favor of treating yourself kindly, imagine what they would say to you, in any given moment of struggle.
For me, that person is my dad. I’ve been gradually realizing over the years how consistently he has encouraged me to take it easy on myself. I am deeply grateful for that (and I really ought to tell him so)!
The new rock in the river
I used to write a lot about the metaphor of the rock in the river—staying on my stable rock of detached observation in the midst of the river of life’s contents. That’s even where the name of this blog comes from!
These days, I still like and use that image, but the rock has changed—it’s not just Zen detached observation, but it’s attachment to my relationship with myself rather than the contents of my life’s river.
Thanks for reading my reflections, and I hope they may be helpful to you, too, in these times of scary river rapids—and/or whatever your river is bringing lately.