Safe Spaces
A few weeks ago, I met up with my friends, Estin, Taylor and Emma to play pickleball in the late afternoon after work. After pickleball, Emma headed to the gym. Estin, Taylor and I were hungry, so we grabbed a few burritos from a taco shop here in town and then took those burritos over to Estin and Taylor's house. It was a warm summer day, so we ended up making a fire. Let me back up... we made a bit of a makeshift firepit of sorts and then we all sat on lawn chairs around our firepit, ate burritos, drank a bit of beer and talked about life. I don't know that we rested on any one topic in particular. I feel as though we talked about careers a bit, we talked about religion, we shared funny stories, we shared some of the more difficult moments of our lives... I suppose in short, we were vulnerable with each other, and when that vulnerability was reciprocated a safe space was formed between the three of us.
A few nights ago, my colleague Doug and his wife, Clarissa invited me over for dinner. I met them after work and the three of us shared a meal together. I've known Doug and Clarissa for well over a decade, and as such, we've become close friends. They're moving to Europe in November and so we've been pretty conscientious about making the most of the limited time we have left to get together in the way we've grown accustomed. Because of their impending departure, the evening felt especially sacred. We spoke about their plans, and how things were slowly coming together for them. We spoke about the farewell party our company had thrown for Doug, and about the silliness that occurs when colleagues get slightly inebriated. We spoke of our friendship and devotion to each other and how we hoped to stay in touch despite the distance. Looking back on the evening I again was struck by the notion that this was a safe space of honesty and vulnerability. The night felt especially tender, just knowing that we may just have one or two more encounters like this before they depart for the next chapter of their lives.
I've been contemplating the concept of "safe spaces" over the past several weeks. I'm beginning to realize that I have a handful of these safe spaces in my life that I greatly appreciate. Not just spaces, but people in my life that I feel particularly close to, and that allow me the latitude to be completely myself... which I find to be one of the best gifts a person can give to another. How wonderful to be in the presence of someone with which you feel completely safe to be vulnerable, at ease, and completely free to be yourself.
My relationship with my daughter comes to mind. I feel as though we've spent years cultivating a space between the two of us that feels so safe as to feel like "home", in the sense that a feeling of belonging arises when we're together. I feel this way with my brother as well. In the last few years especially, we've formed an especially tight bond; and have created a safe space that feels akin to coming home.
"There's nothing more intimate in life than simply being understood. And understanding someone else." ~ Brad Meltzer, The Inner Circle (2011)
As I've grown older, I've come to greatly value my time spent in these "safe spaces" and prefer these warm, vulnerable, intimate encounters to just about any social get together one might experience. Some might opt for dancing, karaoke, or lavish parties. A younger version of myself might be inclined to go bowling, watch a movie with friends, play pool or throw darts at a brewery. Not to say all those activities aren't enjoyable. They certainly have their place but, if given the choice, I feel as though I'd prefer to take an opportunity to connect with the people I care about in an honest, vulnerable manner. Such encounters edify the soul and strike me as sacred. To experience honest vulnerability and, in turn, become vulnerable myself: what a remarkably wonderous, profound and exhilarating experience. To know and be known, to understand and be understood; those feel like moments to be cherished.
I've just recently finished the book Theo of Golden by Allen Levi. In it, the main character, an 87-year-old Portuguese man known simply as Theo, comes to settle for a time in the fictional town of Golden, Georgia. He visits a coffee shop and takes note of the many portraits on display and for sale throughout the little shop. He comes to discover that the subject of each of these portraits is a local resident of Golden. Theo, being a man of means, takes it upon himself to purchase these portraits, a handful at a time, and gift each of them to the subject of the portrait if he is able to track them down. The tracking isn't too difficult, as the name of the subject is written on the back of each portrait. He writes each individual a letter of introduction and expresses a wish to bestow a gift: the portrait purchased at the little coffee shop. He invites these individuals, one at a time, to meet him at a public fountain near the center of town for his bestowals. These one-on-one meetings are described as intimate, personal encounters. Theo does a tremendous job of creating a safe space for each person he happens to encounter at these meetings. He is introduced to a number of characters from all walks of life and all manner of personalities. He is welcoming, kind and gracious with each of them.
This past Wednesday, I hosted a book club in which we discussed Theo of Golden. Dubbed by one of our attendees as "The Wellowship"; the fledgling tradition has been to meet, drink a bit of whiskey, and discuss a book. The books agreed upon by our little group of readers thus far have been thought provoking, existentially edifying works that in some way challenge, inspire, or broaden our perspectives. Theo of Golden produced a lively, enriching topic of discussion. As we conversed, I couldn't help but be moved by the fact that I was again in the midst of an intimate, vulnerable, safe space.
Towards the conclusion of book club I said to my friends, "One final thing I will say about our book tonight: Theo always created a safe space for the people he encountered in Golden. In the same way, you guys create a safe space for me when we meet like this and I greatly appreciate that." A warm, "Likewise," was the response and sentiment I received.
We all parted ways that evening with hearts full. I'm so grateful for the safe spaces in my life. They compel me to be a safe space for those that might need it. May I be a refuge for those weathered down by the harshness of life.
"The most precious gift we can offer others is our presence." ~ Thich Nhat Hanh, Living Buddha, Living Christ
