A common joke amongst us Mormons is the idea that every prayer we offer at church includes the phrase “may we all return home in safety” — even if we’re only traveling a couple of blocks away.
When I travel, I am often told to “have a safe trip.”
And I used to tell my kids “the most important thing you can be is safe.”
But is that really true?
There is clearly a need deep within us to be safe. Look at the way a two-year-old clings to a ratty old stuffed animal or blanket that’s been dragged around on the floor, through the park and back again. Try to replace it with a new one and they won’t have it. A sense of security has been given to the object and they don’t know how they will be able to live without it.
I recently saw myself as this two-year-old. I’ve been clinging to anything from ideas to traditions to favorite menu items, believing they give me comfort and somehow keep me safe. The more I cling to them, the more I need them.
But, I’m starting to wonder if I really do value safety the most and at what cost it comes. What if I explore past those things that bring me comfort? What if I want more from a trip than safety? And, what if safety is already there without my even needing to cling to it?
There’s a spirit behind exploring, an ability to sit in the void between what we know and what we don’t know yet. When we let go of something that makes us feel safe and secure, it’s like the trapeze artist swinging from one bar to the next. It can feel a bit like a free-fall or it can feel like flying, it all depends on how attached we are to holding onto a bar.
The Wayfarer is a weekly column that embodies exploring the world, in varying degrees of import. It’s the capturing of that pioneer spirit of our heritage and folklore. Growing up, I remember seeing Hole-in-the-Rock at Lake Powell and hearing the stories of those who went off on a great journey of exploration to . . . Bluff, Utah. This steep and narrow crevice in the vast Glen Canyon provided an opportunity in what would otherwise be an impassible space.
Not inspired by their destination, I can’t help but think about what kind of person leaves everything they know to go through the desert. What does it feel like to make your way down thousands of feet in a hole you’ve created in the rock? And how does that forever change the way you look at the world, even if you end up in Bluff?
I don’t know anything about the history of Hole-in-the-Rock or Bluff… but they sound like journeys of inspiring bravery. The whole idea of exploration and travel raise an interesting paradox: leaving one’s home to go into the world will almost always be less safe than it would be to remain in one place. Yet, when we take a step back and look at the bigger picture, our survival has always depended on the willingness our species has had to risk the short-term dangers of migration and adaptation.
I think this willingness to risk travel is something that may be of use in our emotional and spiritual lives, too. We could stay in one spot… but if the weather changes, or the food runs out, we need to be willing to find a new ‘right place’.
I was just at an Adyashanti dharma talk last night and he was teaching about spiritual shifts vs. spiritual experiences. He said that many people have spiritual experiences, but that a spiritual shift is different. In part of the talk, he really focused on the fear that is often involved right before someone is ready to drop their current perspective and make a shift. He also said that for some, maybe the fear is warranted. He compared dropping those long held beliefs as a type of death. I know that I’ve felt both that fear and the shift, and I’ve always been glad when I’ve faced the fear and step into danger of letting go of long-held comforts. Maybe safety is over-rated?
It’s not that safety isn’t important. I’m just questioning whether those things that we believe keep us safe are actually stunting our growth, collectively and individually and actually have nothing to do with remaining safe.
Wonderful new site! Reading through this post reminded me of my mountain biking trips to southern Utah. I was a pretty hard core biker back in the day, and I learned the hard way that when you’re about to crash your bike, you protect yourself from injury more effectively if you learn how to fall rather than brace yourself for impact and crash hard.
“There’s a spirit behind exploring, an ability to sit in the void between what we know and what we don’t know yet. When we let go of something that makes us feel safe and secure, it’s like the trapeze artist swinging from one bar to the next. It can feel a bit like a free-fall or it can feel like flying, it all depends on how attached we are to holding onto a bar.”
Very true.
Looking forward to reading here.
Reminds me of the old proverb (that I am undoubtedly butchering) about the man who was greatly helped by a boat when he needed to cross the water during part of a long journey, but who was crippled by the fact that he insisted on dragging the boat along when he got to shore. Sometimes the “safest” thing to do, though it may not seem so at the time, is to leave the boat behind, even though the boat may have played a critical role during another part of your journey. No doubt, as Laurie says, that can be a scary thing, the stuff of fear and trembling.
Nice post.
Congrats on the launch. The site is beautiful, and I’m excited to hear where the Wayfarer will roam.
“There’s a spirit behind exploring, an ability to sit in the void between what we know and what we don’t know yet. When we let go of something that makes us feel safe and secure, it’s like the trapeze artist swinging from one bar to the next. It can feel a bit like a free-fall or it can feel like flying, it all depends on how attached we are to holding onto a bar.”
Well said. I think it gets to the importance of sitting with your fear and letting it move through you rather than rule you.
Mormons are notorious for playing it safe, I’m afraid, which is kind of ironic given our foundation story which was all about going out on a limb. People like to build hedges around sin, and eventually they forget that the hedges are not the sin.
Looks fantastic–great post!
I LOVE the new site. It’s so beautiful and thoughtful. I also can’t wait to see where the Wayfarer will wander.
Can’t wait to wander with you, Mel.
Mel, fascinating thoughts – and great comments here everyone.
I think we definitely need a sense of danger in order to feel alive and to to truly appreciate safety we have to have regular experiences which test our sense of safety.
Thanks for the comments.
ECS, I think sometimes we don’t want to admit that falling/crashing is a natural consequence of biking. Instead we consider it a sign that we’re doing something wrong, that biking is dangerous and to be avoided.
Sort of like the hedges analogy from Hawkgrrrl.
I know there are real dangers in life, the hard part is deciding what actually keeps us safe instead of what just makes us feel safe – they can be two very different things. It’s learning to bike with the helmet and knowledge of how to fall. Still entails more risk than staying home watching other people bike, but worth it in terms of experience.
Really like the new feel here and the sense of exploration. Familiar yet unknown territory. Can’t wait to see more of the world from your perspective.
What a great site. This post reminds me of the NYT article (sorry I don’t know how to hyperlink without a button) A Womb with a View:
http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/09/27/a-womb-with-a-view/?scp=2&sq=pregnancy&st=cse
particularly the line, ” ‘Moderate’ levels of stress during pregnancy is associated with accelerated brain development at 2 weeks of age and better motor and mental development scores at age 2.”
I had read the article in hopes of telling my family that they needed to calm the heck down- as they were endangering my fetus. How bummed I was to discover that, true to life, a little reckless living and attendant stress is good for you- even in the womb.
Crazywomancreek – I am feeling significantly less guilty about my 3rd pregnancy thanks to your comments :)
Crazywomancreek, what a great comment.
I think one of the major problems facing western society is our collective, generational success and resulting assumed individual triumph. In many ways, as a society, we’ve overcome whats made life so difficult for so many people for so many years, but as individuals, most of us couldn’t survive a week outside our societal safety net. We’re safe, we’re secure, and we’re miserable. It literally depresses the hell out of us. We’ve succeeded in liberating ourselves from so many of the torments that have plagued mankind through the centuries that we have created a false sense of security which shields us from the harsh realities of life. We can afford to experience the thrill of adventure, shielded from the reality of failure, because at the end of the day, we can turn back from the challenges of life when we need a break because our society provides a built in safety net that we can pretend we’re not falling into, but it catches us and quietly places us back on the ground just the same. Its a luxury that most of our grandparents never had, and many people in the most difficult parts of the world still yearn for, the security of a place to literally rest their head. That is their adventure.
Grant – so true! And yet, our genetics remains the same. Hence, the mass depression. We can’t accept this, so we travel on.
What failure can we risk, throwing away the ‘shield’ we’ve been offered? We can risk the appearance of ‘failure’ at the canned narratives we’ve inherited – and come into contact with a real chance of success – which would be to find our deeper nature, beyond that limited system.
I grew up in a very rural part of northern Utah and spent a lot of time in Wyoming. I learned to love both places deeply, and really didn’t understand what was such a big deal about the pioneers. I thought that everyone in the 1840s and 50s lived in dugouts and rode in broken down old wagons. It wasn’t until I’d moved away and found that many other places have actual rain that waters the gardens, and rich soil that’s not alkalie that I realized how very strange the West must have seemed to the pioneers. Crossing Wyoming, after growing up in England, must have seemed like crossing the face of the moon. It did a great deal of courage, and a bit of insanity to do it.
The need for adventure is something that almost defines human nature; we climb Everest, plumb the deep, and went to the moon.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to live my life on I-15 (either physically or spiritually).
I’ve climbed rocks and mountains all over the western US. I’m not sure where I heard it, but when asked why I did it: It is only in facing the risk of death that you truly appreciate life.
nice theme
Thanks so much regarding giving everyone an update on this subject matter on your website. Please understand that if a fresh post becomes available or in the event any improvements occur to the current write-up, I would be considering reading more and knowing how to make good using of those strategies you write about. Thanks for your efforts and consideration of others by making this web site available.
I precisely wanted to thank you very much once more. I am not sure the things that I might have accomplished without the actual information documented by you about my area. It truly was an absolute difficult circumstance in my view, nevertheless discovering the well-written approach you solved that made me to leap over joy. Now i’m happy for the help and thus believe you find out what an amazing job that you’re undertaking training some other people using your web page. Probably you’ve never come across all of us.