Cultivating Safety

Maybe it’s just because I’ve had such a laid back Labor Weekend, but lately when I’ve thought about or jotted down blog ideas, I can’t manage to complete any of then because they’ve all been about contentious issues, like systemic racism, sexism and hatred. And I’ve just been feeling so relaxed that these subjects start to lose steam for me within a few paragraphs. I just don’t feel like being angry right now. I really don’t ever want to be angry and sometimes it seems as if the world feeds on reactionary anger to the point where you feel like and idiot if you’re not anxious, angry and bent our of shape about something…

Especially if you’re Black.

And a woman.

I am both, and at the present moment I just don’t feel thinking about all the ways in which my very existence is a threat to a psychopathic, blood-thirsty White ruling class. I’m on a break. God knows all that shit will still be there when get back to it.

I’ve been busy at home, cultivating a sense of safety with my partner. making our home more homey, not just with things but with actions. I’m not sure safety is something that really exists anywhere except for as a feeling created by actions. ADT doesn’t actually provide safety if you know what I mean. The definition of a sense of safety is different for everyone. Some people feel safe when there stuff is safe, their valuables, there money, their property, capital etc. Some people feel safe when they can lay open their hearts without fear. Some people feel safe when they are comfortable in their own skin and allowed to be all that they are around those whom they care about the most.

I was privileged to have the kind of childhood where I felt incredibly safe the majority of the time. And I always cherish the memory of that feeling and understand how blessed I am to have felt it. You can’t buy that feeling, the sense that no matter what happens outside of your home with anyone outside of your family, when you come home, you’re coming home to peace, to ease, to a place where you can heal and recharge.

I felt that way when I first met my husband. That’s how I knew he was family. And recently since adding out little mammalian son to the family, I’ve begun to have that feeling again; a sense of comfort from a simple, loving routine that has grown from co-caring for an intelligent little living thing. Providing a sense of safety and comfort is deeply fulfilling. And I can’t focus on that and anger at the same time. The two simply cannot occupy the same space.

I am growing more aware though about whom I want to allow in the circle of safety and those whom I want to remain at a distance.

I don’t have time or energy to be a “We are The World” woman all the time anymore. Some of us are the world. Some of us just predisposed to destroy it.

And yeah…

more on that unfortunate fact later.

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