I love sailing. My direct experience in it is weak (but not absent), but my pondering on it, reading about it in novels, and thinking of some of the life lessons it teaches is rich. For instance, when we are in a small vessel floating in an infinite sea, all pretense in stripped away and we are exposed to a harsh reality: that we indeed are exposed. We are at the mercy of the elements, and what is worse, they are utterly without mercy. Rain, wind, and even ice conspire to challenge, nay even sometimes seem to mock, our well-being and lives. At least, some may think, one is somewhat safe in port. Why do others ride the storm, risk their existence for what is unsure? Treasure? New land?
Hence, we come to Safety and Vulnerability. These two concepts exist in intimate, tender, and beautiful ways in humanity. I would suggest that our deep ability both to feel each and to allow courage -- in the face of vulnerability -- to supersede safety is something that makes us as humans very special, for it is not that some remain in security and others render their lives vulnerable (or, yes, dangerous) because the idea of safety (for it is not a thing, an absolute, but a feeling) has no appeal or grab upon the risk-takers, but quite the contrary. In other words, the vulnerable choose their path all-the-more because they feel both emotions -- a desire for safety and a reticence at fear -- in a much raw-er way than those secure, and yet choose the harder way, giving heed to vulnerability rather than security. . . but is it truly the more difficult path??
First, consider safety. It is something many long for and crave. It is the feeling of being insulated from the dangers that surround us. It can act as a buffer in order to operate under difficult circumstances, sometimes leading us to forget our dangers. It is also what holds us back (settling for it instead of chasing our dreams) more than anything else. Whats more, it is more imagined than real.
What safety covers us from is vulnerability. Vulnerability is what allows grace to flow into our lives. It allows kindness and all healing to reach us.Otherwise we spend our lives squirming at every close touch, every nearly-dear friend, every healing emissary. Of the countless examples from my own life, I think of spine therapy. A man in California, blessed still by life, told me of a car accident he was in where the vehicle rolled multiple times. He told me of the pain, the feeling of being imprisoned by his own body, and of the tortuous therapy sessions. He made the observation that only by allowing the physician, a chiropractor, to touch and apply force to his body, and informing Doctor where it hurt the most, was he able to receive eventual relief. Now, make no mistake, the least painful thing to do in the present moment would have been to keep silence over his hidden aches, but he knew that only through pain and exposure could he receive the full benefit -- yea, arguably the only benefit, other options offering nothing -- of his therapy sessions. I suppose one could argue that other options would offer no benefit other than that of security, or safety (in this case from heightened pain). As it is with this case, so it is with life. Pain or suffering and healing or improvement often come in the same package, which is why some blessings of our mortal journey seem like a curse at the present moment, but nevertheless yields "the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby." I commented on this story in a religious discussion in later years, commenting that "when given the possibility of full healing by God, we are tempted to shrink and try to accept partial healing and, upon Him examining our darkest corners, exclaim 'No, Please. Don't look there, its too painful,' but in this context, vulnerability is a very good thing". To extend the metaphor further, if we are to be exercised, or stretched and have our capacities enlarged, by the pain and suffering which vulnerability allows, how can we remain in safety, away from the gym, and rightly be upset when we remain weak, or struggle with the same chronic spiritual pains for years and years?
I therefore set out to the road, with little but my sleeping bag, bicycle, and a few hundred dollars in hand, relying on my own strength and soon thereafter by the human kindness offered to me at every turn. You just learn to accept it. Once you learn to love yourself, you come to cherish it and bask in the goodness in humanity that inspires naught but faith in hope in your kind. You come upon fresh shores, rich and teeming with life and abundance, even combinations of colors you had never supposed!
Hence, we come to Safety and Vulnerability. These two concepts exist in intimate, tender, and beautiful ways in humanity. I would suggest that our deep ability both to feel each and to allow courage -- in the face of vulnerability -- to supersede safety is something that makes us as humans very special, for it is not that some remain in security and others render their lives vulnerable (or, yes, dangerous) because the idea of safety (for it is not a thing, an absolute, but a feeling) has no appeal or grab upon the risk-takers, but quite the contrary. In other words, the vulnerable choose their path all-the-more because they feel both emotions -- a desire for safety and a reticence at fear -- in a much raw-er way than those secure, and yet choose the harder way, giving heed to vulnerability rather than security. . . but is it truly the more difficult path??
First, consider safety. It is something many long for and crave. It is the feeling of being insulated from the dangers that surround us. It can act as a buffer in order to operate under difficult circumstances, sometimes leading us to forget our dangers. It is also what holds us back (settling for it instead of chasing our dreams) more than anything else. Whats more, it is more imagined than real.
What safety covers us from is vulnerability. Vulnerability is what allows grace to flow into our lives. It allows kindness and all healing to reach us.Otherwise we spend our lives squirming at every close touch, every nearly-dear friend, every healing emissary. Of the countless examples from my own life, I think of spine therapy. A man in California, blessed still by life, told me of a car accident he was in where the vehicle rolled multiple times. He told me of the pain, the feeling of being imprisoned by his own body, and of the tortuous therapy sessions. He made the observation that only by allowing the physician, a chiropractor, to touch and apply force to his body, and informing Doctor where it hurt the most, was he able to receive eventual relief. Now, make no mistake, the least painful thing to do in the present moment would have been to keep silence over his hidden aches, but he knew that only through pain and exposure could he receive the full benefit -- yea, arguably the only benefit, other options offering nothing -- of his therapy sessions. I suppose one could argue that other options would offer no benefit other than that of security, or safety (in this case from heightened pain). As it is with this case, so it is with life. Pain or suffering and healing or improvement often come in the same package, which is why some blessings of our mortal journey seem like a curse at the present moment, but nevertheless yields "the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby." I commented on this story in a religious discussion in later years, commenting that "when given the possibility of full healing by God, we are tempted to shrink and try to accept partial healing and, upon Him examining our darkest corners, exclaim 'No, Please. Don't look there, its too painful,' but in this context, vulnerability is a very good thing". To extend the metaphor further, if we are to be exercised, or stretched and have our capacities enlarged, by the pain and suffering which vulnerability allows, how can we remain in safety, away from the gym, and rightly be upset when we remain weak, or struggle with the same chronic spiritual pains for years and years?
I therefore set out to the road, with little but my sleeping bag, bicycle, and a few hundred dollars in hand, relying on my own strength and soon thereafter by the human kindness offered to me at every turn. You just learn to accept it. Once you learn to love yourself, you come to cherish it and bask in the goodness in humanity that inspires naught but faith in hope in your kind. You come upon fresh shores, rich and teeming with life and abundance, even combinations of colors you had never supposed!
And thus many go, all they go who know they must,
Set out with muster to abandon safe harbor, or vagaries thereof.
For winds blow to those at sea, not to those moored in misery,
But secure. Out of port, out onto a sea of uncertainty,
Carried forth by the steady breeze and sunshine of kind humanity
Riding upon the wind, to where it knows they must go
(To those who know) It will take themFor you see, gentle readers, safety is an illusion. The harshest dangers we fear exist for those in proximity as well to those far away. The hurricanes that do the most damage always wreck as many ships at harbor as those set sail.
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