You are Safe and You are Loved

You are Safe and You are Loved

When my kids are scared, I tell them, “You are safe and you are loved.” In these frightening times I’m holding these words close, for we can either freeze in panic or move forward in the belief that we are safe and cared for.

Try rolling that phrase around in your mind for a minute or two. “You are safe and you are loved.” It calms something down that’s anxious in you, doesn’t it? It helps. Nothing outward will change, but if you are slightly more peaceful, it makes everything a bit easier to bear.

The problem comes when we forget that we are safe and we are loved. We begin to descend into panic, our palms sweaty, our tummies roiling, our minds racing ahead with all of the “what if’s?” that will never really go away. But for now, in this exact moment, we are safe and we are loved.

I’ve had a series of separate discussions with people in this last week about the situation developing in America. Some have said that they aren’t political and are just waiting for it to blow over. Others have expressed concern but have stated that maybe it’s all meant to work out this way and there’s not much we can do as Canadians to make our voices heard.

I have a few American friends who voted for Trump and I love these people and have a history with them, but I cannot bring myself to talk about this with them as his election is simply too fresh and upsetting to me. So I’m practicing making space in my heart for opposing beliefs. I’m summoning as much grace as possible, for me and for my friends and for those who are desperately angry, terrified and affected by his sweeping and unjust policies.

It’s hard. It hurts. I want a gentle, peaceful world and we are on the precipice of war, violence, narcissism, bigotry and the misogyny of a patriarchy I had hoped was becoming a thing of the past. And yet here we are, trying to explain these horrible headlines to our children when we cannot begin to understand them ourselves.

But this I do know: I am safe and I am loved. I will wrap it around me like a coat and wear it to keep warm. I will be excessively kind and attempt to encourage as many people as I can. I will march and protest when the availability arises and if it doesn’t, I’ll organize one myself. I can dream of the kind of peaceful world I want to live in and do my best to create it on a daily basis and then hope it will spread like wildfire to the hearts of the refugees, the innocent children, the marginalized and those who believe the U.S. is moving in the right direction.

Let’s join together, if we are afraid, and reassure ourselves. Let’s whisper, “You are safe and you are loved.” We need each other’s hope and assurance, more than ever before. None of us are alone. We are safe, we are loved, and together we are powerful.

Peace and Safety

Peace and Safety

Like the rest of the world, I was shocked and outraged by the terrorist attacks in Paris on November 13th. I felt lost, sad, fearful; helpless against the type of violence so unexpected and impossible to predict or control.

For my own sanity, I had to shut off the TV coverage and try to avoid Twitter and Facebook. I can’t process grief when I’m distracted by endless arguments over who’s to blame. My heart squeezes in fear when I read speculation about this being the start of World War III. I feel anguish when people say that more violence is the answer to this crisis.

I understand this response. It offers a tiny bit of control to imagine taking up a weapon and hunting down those who are trying to kill you. But hasn’t history proven that escalating bloodshed to bring about peace rarely succeeds?

eiffel.jpg-largeTerrorism is complicated and I sure as hell don’t have the answers. I just bawled most of the way through the Remembrance Day ceremony at my daughter’s school because talking about soldiers sacrificing their lives so I could live in freedom pierces something sharp in my soul. Where would we be without the courage and commitment of those who fought through two world wars so I could exist in peace and safety?

I don’t know why I got to be born in Canada in the late twentieth century. I’ve known nothing but freedom and democracy. Many, many others have not been so fortunate. We all want the same thing, no matter where we live or the time period we are born into: safety for ourselves and for those we love.

Not one of us is guaranteed safety. Not from bombs, guns, poverty, illness, drunk drivers or random accidents that can wound or kill us. Terrorist acts threaten everyone, the whole world over, and make for a challenging enemy to identify and defeat.

I don’t have solutions to these global problems, but I believe I must first deal with the violence in my own heart before I can move beyond myself. Peace is not achieved through more violence. Something has to shift and change in every human heart for our world to look different. I feel despair that this may never happen, at least not in my lifetime, but as the recovery movement says, “Let it begin with me.”

Hope is a powerful force. So is solidarity. Standing with another who is in pain matters. So does saying “Me too” when fear and panic crouch at our door. We don’t have to let them in to live with us. We can choose to keep our hearts soft and warm instead of brittle and angry.

We can love each other. We can help by carrying one another when required. We can feel the sadness and make space for it in our soul. One day, we will find healing. We will get through the darkest days with those we love, and refuse to stop hoping for a better, safer, more peaceful future.