“Do One Thing A Day That Scares You” reads my favorite billboard. I smile deliciously whenever I drive by. My new beloved athletic wear store, lululemon, resuscitates the phrase from Eleanor Roosevelt; I love that it’s an in-your-face dare to put ourselves out there. If you’ve ever pushed beyond your comfort zone, you’ve undoubtedly tasted the thrill that comes with pulling off that which you weren’t quite sure you could conquer. The euphoric wake can leave you feeling a little bit like a superhero, Elastigirl of “The Incredibles” fame, stretching, literally, beyond human limits.
Life should be a series of adventures launched from a place of safety. You might wonder what the value is in being a thrill seeker. It seems, according to the August issue of Psychology Today magazine, it is the number one differentiator between those who consider themselves happy and those who do not. Happy people indulge curiosity by taking risks. They realize that “while being uncomfortable and vulnerable is not an easy path, it is the most direct route to becoming stronger and wiser.”
Last summer I shared my own philosophy on happiness in Arcanum . My idea is that it works like a fulcrum, that place of stability supporting movement upon it. A see-saw can’t move up and down without the unwavering pivot point of the base. When we feel like we have a safety zone to return to no matter what the outcome, we are more inclined to take risks. So the questions become how do we find that refuge for ourselves, and isn’t it ironic that sometimes seeking the safe places in life can require taking a few risks as well?
All of us harbor others as well as need harboring for ourselves. As parents, being the haven for our children comes with the territory. For years I’ve preached to my kids that our home isn’t just four walls, it’s who we are for each other inside of it. It is a place where we respect and keep each other safe, where we can truly be ourselves. It’s our job as members of the family to preserve the sanctuary we’ve created.
What’s interesting though is that we parents can be so protective that we prevent our children from taking risks even though there is no safer place to launch than from our homes and hearts. I need to remind myself every time I hesitate with the letting go that I want my children to make their mistakes here, where I can help fix them. And that I want to be the one they come home to with the sparkle of triumph dancing in their eyes, the smack of victory still fresh on their lips.
But what about when we’re the ones taking the risks? As adults, how do we find our safe places? This is tricky because there are many of us who believe we aren’t entitled to shelter, we should all outgrow the basic needs of attachment. That as adults we should just suck it up, in fact, if we’re dependent on another for emotional security, then we’re needy and undesirable. Nothing, I’m learning, could be further from the truth. The need to be connected, to know there are others out there who have our backs, to be able to ask for and receive support, is synonymous with being human at any age. If we’re going to find the pleasure and enjoyment in life we need to recognize that refuge is all around us, that the people who love us want nothing more than to provide it for us. All we need to do is ask.
Oh yeah, the ask. That’s really hard.
Being someone who finds it nearly impossible to ask for help, this is a huge area of opportunity for me. It’s no secret that my new job is challenging me, in fact I think I may have mentioned it a few times in recent blog posts. I’ve been taking the leap recently, reaching out, selectively I’ll add, to superiors in my organization and requesting some steering, coaching, guidance. I’m choosing people who I’ve spent enough time with that I feel comfortable letting down my hair. And I’m being rewarded with support on all fronts. In fact, in a conversation just last week I go so far as to ask another, half-jokingly as a cover for my vulnerability, if in the event I fail here, would he put me in another role. His response is an unequivocal “yes!”
With a kedge like that, I walk away with renewed energy to take the chances I need to, to speak the unpopular opinion, to recommend the right thing, to become Elastigirl, stretching the team beyond what seems possible. The work hasn’t become one bit easier, but I feel great about it. Happy, even.
Safe places are everywhere. They’re in the cousin who answers the call in quotidian correspondence, responding immediately to signs of distress. They’re in the manager or colleague who is a champion of your achievements and potential. They’re in the friend who invites you to coffee because it’s been too long since you’ve talked, the friend who observes you wasting the talent you haven’t quite figured out how to get into the world, the friend who listens to you cry when nothing seems to be going right. And the safe place is in that space made for resting your head, nestled up against the chest of someone really special. Don’t be afraid to moor there. The journey is long and hard; happiness is found in the wharves we’re brave enough to embrace along the way.
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