On Peace and Safety

[gaudior]

So, my UU Minister in today's sermon (the sermon starts at 11:07, though the previous eleven minutes are also pretty cool) talked about the difficulty of healing as a nation when we are not guaranteed that we will stop hurting each other-- and even when our definitions of hurt are so different. He noted that, as a gay Black man, he can cause some people to feel unsafe just by existing near them. How, then, do we learn to heal together?

This made me think about an important dilemma my clients often encounter: Safety is impossible, but feeling safe is necessary.

Because, seriously: we are never, ever absolutely safe. We are all going to eventually die of something, and even if it's just old age, then that's a danger we carry with us in our very genes. There are some dangers we can avoid (wash your hands, wear a mask) and dangers we can't (there could be an asteroid hurtling toward my apartment at this very second, which I can neither predict nor avoid). Most dangers are somewhere in the middle-- we can avoid them somewhat, and some of those precautions are probably worth it, and some of those precautions cause us other problems, in terms of things we then can't do that would be good for us in other ways, or in terms of feeling the stress and fear of looking out for that problem. We can never be safe from everything.

And at the same time, we need to feel safe. Feeling stress/anxiety/fear/presence of danger is not good for you on a long-term basis. Heightened anxiety leads to all kinds of physical problems, at first with mood and energy, later with digestion and immune response and the various maladies that come from our immune systems being overtaxed. And it feels bad, makes us unhappy and irritable, makes us avoid the risk that might bring us greater happiness, steals the feelings of calm, contentment, and connection.

So a trick we work on a lot in therapy is learning to find other ways to feel safe that don't involve rationally believing that we are safe. Whether that's relaxation exercises, or coming to terms with our mortality, or other forms of spiritual hope and connection, or deciding which dangers we're going to focus on and try to look to our safety there whenever the others come up, we need something that lets us feel safe somehow.

And I think what Reverend Adam's question points to is: some people have chosen to base their feeling of safety on controlling the actions of people around them. They may not be able to stop the asteroids, but they can probably stop other people from talking about the asteroids. Or, for a less out-there example, climate change.

I think some people feel unsafe, as we are all unsafe in the world, and try to deal with it not by actually facing the real dangers, but by facing the people who are talking about the dangers.

And, like, ignoring some dangers is actually a perfectly sane response to them, in my professional opinion. Some things we actually can't stop, and so fearing them is not useful, and does us harm. The trouble is when you don't manage to understand the difference between something we can control, something we can't change at all, and the horrifyingly difficult middle ground of things that we can affect but not control.. Like climate change, like covid-19, like racism. These are all things that each of us can do something about, but no-one can completely fix on their own, and that is hard.

And I think that some points of view require everything to be controlled either by the person holding that point of view or by God, and completely out of human ability to control. That is in some ways a very sound strategy for avoiding constant stress, because you don't need to worry about the things beyond yourself, especially if your belief system also holds that God rewards virtue with safety and prosperity.

Unfortunately, that worldview then creates further dangers in the world: people having a different experience from yours. People whose experiences of sexuality and gender call into question that belief system. Religious beliefs which are just as sincere and heartfelt as yours, but nevertheless contradictory.

This all leads to the question: how can these people find another way to feel safe, that doesn't require me not to exist? Can I do anything to help them feel better? I'm not willing to not exist, or even to not fight for my rights, to make them feel safe, so what can I do?

I suppose I can think of two things:

1) When I'm actually talking to said people, I could try seeing them as fellow human beings, and treat them as politely and kindly as I can (while still firmly insisting on my right to be treated the same way).

2) Working hard to reduce the dangers for everyone. It's a mistake to think that everyone who disagrees me is just "mistaken," but... do we really think there would be this many Trump supporters if everyone in the country had access to food, housing, medical care, education, and relief when disasters strike?

I mean, maybe there would. Maybe people are just that racist. But... I agree with Rev. Adam that we need to find some way of sharing the planet, even if it's just being willing to meet on neutral ground and acknowledge each other's right to exist.

--R