I once felt safe in the deepest caverns of my body. I was strong, I was agile, I was in possession of endless stamina. I felt the immortality of youth, as do we all.
I once felt safe in a place called Marriage. I was misguided in my choices and my beliefs, and now the very idea suggests anything but solid ground.
I once felt safe in the urban centers and quiet corners of my country. Naively, idealistically, unassumingly, like millions of others.
I grew up.
We all grow up, if we’re lucky.
And it has been – and continues to be – quite the ride.
* * *
When our babies are tiny and crawling and then on their feet and toddling, we sidle into the parental preoccupation with keeping them safe. We lock down toilet seats and we latch cabinets, we bolt movable furnishings to sturdy walls or we banish them from our rooms altogether; we cover outlets, we put up gates, we check windows.
We do whatever we can to minimize dangers, and so we teach our children not to talk to strangers, we teach them how to cross the streets, we teach them to trust their gut and even to put up their dukes to defend themselves. We want their safe passage through each day, their safe assessment at the emotional and physical intersections, their safest selections – or so we think – while still going for what they want.
* * *
As adults, some of us plunge into adventures with little hesitation – generally when we’re younger and hungry for new experiences; this is also the time when we have the fewest responsibilities, the freedom to attempt new pastimes, to move to new cities, to explore unusual careers, to try out different partners.
It’s all part of learning.
It is anything but safe.
As we grow older, we take on families and financial responsibilities. We move into a rhythm that provides structure for others and so, safety – or perhaps, security – becomes paramount.
Because of those we love.
* * *
There are no guarantees. We may make “good decisions” with whatever knowledge we have, and others that are questionable; we deem them one or the other (and everything in between) based on the (apparent) results.
We also come to accept that luck has a hand – or fate if you prefer. There is no “deserving” an illness or accident, a genetic predisposition we may not know about, causes we will never be able to determine, the careless act of another, simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. We are more aware of our vulnerability.
In some instances, of our fragility.
We cannot control what is beyond our control, but nor do we relinquish what is up to us: each day’s thoughts and their appropriate expression, the words we pronounce and those we edit, our actions, our inactions, and our attitude in approaching them.
We’re marching into the unknown, and glad of it when we’re younger. We’re marching into the unknown, and more trepidatious as we age.
* * *
Before I had children, I had only myself to worry about.
Change jobs? Change cities? Change countries?
No problem. I would figure it out.
Once there were two little people for whom I provided, like most of the mothers I knew, I became more careful, more constrained, and more circumspect in my own choices in order to increase the likelihood that I would be safe – so the world for my boys would stay stable and secure.
Finding myself on my own again, I realize that I now have the opportunity to take more chances. What I don’t have is the same energy, the financial means, and quite possibly, the resourcefulness of two decades ago.
Or two years ago.
* * *
I ask myself if I still have the desire – for adventure, for pursuing my dreams, and for accepting the consequences of both action and inaction – certainly more problematic at midlife, precisely because there are fewer resources in the event of an unsafe crossing.
Then I remind myself of what I believe: in the abiding goodness of women and men, in the vitality of caring connection, in the importance of discovery, in the sustenance of passion of every kind, in the beauty of creating.
Safety? Yes, it matters. But for me, I inch gently toward the renewed realization that it must be accompanied by the fullest possible living.
What do you think?
- How much is psychological make-up a determinant of risk-taking?
- Is upbringing a factor? Financial status?
- What about friends and family supporting your efforts, or possibly trying to undermine them?
- What of the sense of time we have when we’re young and healthy?
- What of the impetus to risk (and achieve) when we sense that time is running short?
- Has your need for safety and security evolved with parenting, as a result of unexpected life events?
- Has it evolved again with both the freedoms and constraints of aging?
Whoever said life was safe? I must have missed that in the manual. 😉 Of course, it’s much easier to throw caution to the wind when we don’t have others depending on the outcome. But there are *risks* (aka new experiences) we can take every day that won’t stretch our finances or cause harm if they aren’t successful. I think as we get older, we don’t allow ourselves to dream anymore. You’re never too old to dream! OR to reinvent ourselves.
I think we live in a kind of cult of safety. Oh, the many dangers that surround us! We have so many safety devices- stove locks, outlet covers, gates, home alarms. And somehow we mistakenly believe we can control all the risks. I grew up in a house that was rarely locked, with people who knew the dangers of the world but lived more openly. Living with intelligence and attention is good, but fear is a terrible way to live.
@Lisa – never too old to dream, I agree.
@Kate – yes, fear is a dreadful way to live.
dearest one. thank you for your lovely comment on our blog. felt good to know that people were watching us as we took our first steps again.
your blog post made us think of one of our most treasured quotes (although the older we got, the less we wanted her life ;-))
And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
– Anais Nin.
we cannot go back to our old life. it will take time to change. but we’ve made a decision. next time, it could be a whole lot worse than tobias and his sisters…..
warmest wishes through the internet protocol bits and bytes.
_tg x
Anais Nin. What lovely recollections I have of reading her. Reminders of how life changes, yes, and blossoming through all of it that we can. Sending my warmest thoughts through the bits and bytes.
The older I get the better I get at solving old, familiar problems. The worse I get at solving new problems that I haven’t seen before. I think the tradeoff is downhill from here, and it scares me plenty.
This made me think of the I Ching, which has 64 figures, the 63rd of which is “already crossing” and the final one being “not yet crossing.” Perhaps safety and risk pose a pair of opposites whose mystery must be understood in their conjunction. These two opposites form a gate through which we return again to the yang (the creative) and the yin (the receptive), the first and second of the 64 possibilities, all of which come out of the undefinable Tao, or way—the Tao as the fullest possible living (and maybe even non-living).
Here’s to your faith in abiding goodness, vitally caring connections, sustaining passions and the beauty of creating as well as receiving.
Fran advertised as “Risk taking, not thrill seeking” when we met online (also, “Serendipity rules.” Readers will remember some of her adventures, and she doesn’t really plan ahead or look back that much. We’re good for one another. She’s getting older and I want to get long life out of her (her parents dropped dead in their 60′s — her age now.) I’m cautious and plan ahead and hope to learn from the past, but then am able to put worries for safety completely out of my mind when things are “GO.” Otherwise, I don’t know that things could ever even become GO. I’m beyond worry about safety once you’ve done what you can. Backpacking in nowheresville, civil disobedience and telling IRS I’m not going to voluntarily pay for war, knowing that there may be a warrant out for my arrest re prior CD: I’m fine with all that. In fact, it’s absolutely right for me, which is why I am fine with it. And Fran accepts all this as sort of normal — providing ideas and feedback, but showing no surprise or hesitation for being what one needs to be. My mantra (actually, one of a number) “Chance favors the prepared mind.” So, go for it!
@Wolf – I suppose if we’re going downhill (fast?), we might as well enjoy the ride. No?
@Bruce – You are a lovely spirit, as always, and I’m appreciative.
@Paul – You and Fran strike me as exemplifying “living life fully” – while well aware of its ups and downs – and it’s inspiring.
I’m so moved and inspired by the post and the replies. Dream, live, enjoy the ride. What DO we have to lose? Less time left than what has been left behind. I don’t want to waste it yet that is exactly what I’m doing… wasting time. I need to change my attitude… now!
I married young, had kids young, and lived as carefree as my toddlers.
Then I was left nine years and three kids in, a divorce I was not expecting nor prepared for. And I was terrified for our safety.
I built up my securities, took on the role of protector and we survived.
Here I am another fourteen years in, the kids are finding their own strengths and safety and I feel as though I am the scared child once again.
Unemployed, feeling insecure, feeling alone and overwhelmed. Perhaps it is luck, or fate, and beyond our full control.
But I also feel that some of my feelings of being vulnerable come from barriers which made me feel safe (a secure job, a husband, a paycheck) being torn away a little too consistently.
I am not much of a risk taker, and I like a sense of security. . . yet, I think most of life is a risk. Choosing a friend, a lover, a husband, a job, a home – all of these come with a risk. Whenever you “put yourself out there” you risk. I also am not fearful and I have confidence I can handle most things. That confidence developed as a result of taking risks and having to deal with it when it went wrong. That confidence developed from being a single parent for many years and surviving, the kids growing up to be responsible people of whom I am proud. “I am woman, I am strong. . .”
You’re so brave to be asking these questions. I went skiing at 30 after not going for 10 years and was shocked at how my self-preservation instinct had changed. I was suddenly afraid!
I think that when we are faced with new situations, it’s important to be gentle to ourselves. A baby step here and there until we are ready. Sometimes when we honor ourselves, we feel the safest of all.
I believe upbringing is a definitive factor in whether or not you are likely to take risks. My parents were conservative and always feared what would go wrong when my sister and I took calculated risks. As an adult, I am risk averse and sometimes I wonder what I am missing out on because of my fear.