I am safe

I just got off the phone with my best friend who told me about the new Will Smith movie.  He apparently finds himself as the last man on earth.  She asked me if I could survive in such a scenario because she wasn’t sure she could for the long term.

The idea was pretty intriguing to me.  On some level, I had already lived that experience, albeit in my head.  (that story is for another post).  What surprised her was that I wasn’t freaked out by the thought of being all alone in the world.  However, my only criteria was that I was able to write. 

So then, like any best friend would, she says, “why don’t you write more on your blog or even better, why don’t you write a book?”

Well damn.  I could freakin’ be the last person on earth but froze when she asked me that question.

Truth is, I write alot.  I have a stack of journals that my family has orders to destroy when I die.  Writing has indeed, saved my life. 

So why don’t I do more of it publicly?

Fear. Judgment.  The usual junk that stops most of us all from pursuing our passions full out. 

So, I thought, why not share something I’ve written in my journal?  Talk about being vunerable, huh?  So here goes..

I’ve spent my whole life trying to be safe.  Safe from being abandon, rejected because my biological mother gave me up.  I grew up being afraid of not being good enough for my adoptive parents and spent years worrying that they might send me away if they thought I was a bad girl.

I put stock and trust in friendships, looking for safety and security in them.  Especially with Paul.

I thought if I worked hard and did the right things, my career progression would be secure.

But I was never safe from rejection and abandonment.  My parents died at vunerable times in my life.  Friends betrayed me.  Paul walked away.  And then I found myself with the worst bosses imaginable, who only focused on my shortcomings.

Every person and every thing that I’ve tried to wrap myself in for security is gone (or about to be).  I’m alone, feeling naked and broken in front of the whole world, with no life line.

None.

But myself.

The only real security and safety available to me is ME.  I’m all I have.  My wisdom,  my source, my intuition, my instincts.  I do know the answers and if not, they will be made available to me.

Nothing outside me–no parent, no amount of money, no spouse or lover, no child or sibling, no house, car or other material possession equals SECURITY.

I am safe.

Not because of what I have or who loves me.

But because I am.

This was a huge ephiphany for me.  As this journal entry unfolded, I came to understand what my life lesson has been.  It makes perfect sense that learning “I am safe” would be the lesson of a person who started their life’s journey being abandoned by their own mother.

I get it now.

I see now that we humans have gotten it all wrong.  Ever notice how the tulip doesn’t worry about blooming next spring? Or the migratory bird stressing about whether it will be warm enough down south?

No.  They trust.  Instinctively.

In nature, every things seems to “know” that no matter what, they are safe. 

How did we miss that?  Why do we still choose to believe the illusion?

We have created a fear-based culture that is destroying us.  We’ve allowed our rights to be eroded, even suspended thinking, in exchange for the illusion of safety.

The truth of who we are can be nothing but safe and secure. 

Today, I am choosing to believe in my power.  I am safe.  Always have been.  Always will be.

You are too. 

And I’m going to keep writing about it.