We often think that safety is in the absolute center. I’ll stay away from the edges, I’ll blandify my personality, I won’t rock the boat. In Canada, we’ve elevated politeness to near lethal levels, hiding opinions or feedback that may offend.
I love the sensitivities of my compassionate Canadian brethren, but politely quieting ourselves on occasion can lead to a habit of peremptorily quieting ourselves without even realizing it. Of course, not just Canadians are engaging in the art of self-restraint; most of us train ourselves into a voluntary domesticity. While I’m a fan of civility, sometimes these unspoken social contracts can bleed into other areas of our lives where self-expression is essential for health, understanding, and happiness.
In our intimate relationships, most of us are told to compromise, compromise, compromise. While empathy is important, we go too far when we let our compassionate natures cover up truths that – while they may not be pleasant – certainly would let some fresh air and honesty into our dynamics. Bluntly put, it’s a problem when we lie to spare someone’s feelings.
In our relationship with ourself, we undermine our nature when we talk ourselves out of the risks that are whispering in our souls.
We think that safety lies in pulling in our edges. This is a misunderstanding: true safety arises when when we have nothing left to lose. Pulling into the center and turtling is usually a sign that we are protecting our egos from failure. We forget that our ego is a construct for working in the world; it is not our core nature. When we take failure personally, we are reinforcing the idea that our ego is real and should be protected. With every “safe” act, we put more swaddling clothes around our fragile ego, protecting it from harm. The problem is that swaddling clothes start to limit that way that we can act and feel.
But there is an antidote. When we practice embracing failure, and when we embracing radical honesty, we affirm our intrinsic safety and goodness. By standing on the edge, arms wide, completely vulnerable, we realize (experientially, not in our heads) that we are already whole, safe, and free. However, we cannot think our way into this understanding; it is a visceral understanding that comes from the act of standing with our hearts open and exposed.
You have a choice today: trust the story of the ego, or trust the wholeness of the heart.
Take one step closer to the edge. How does it feel?
For more juicy wisdom, check out Head Over Heels: A Yogi’s Guide to Dating.
