Safe Place

It always seems to happen like this. When I think I know what I’m going to write, something happens and trumps my original plan. Here’s what trumped today’s plan:

“What’s your definition of a safe place?”

If you’re around me enough, then you know that I like the term “safe place.” I believe that everyone should have one…whether it be a literal space or a person to whom you can talk or both. Personally, I was introduced to the term when I began counseling a few years ago. My counselor, Jenny, about whom I’ve written before, explained that she wanted our sessions to be a safe place for me. She wanted her office to be a place that could contain my life and stories—that could hold my joy and pain and provide the space to work through heartache, grief, anger, confusion, celebrations, milestones, and more. She wanted her presence to be steady and calming and the décor in the room to provide warm, peaceful, consistency so that if nothing else in my life stayed the same then our sessions would be the security that I needed. And they were. And Jenny was. And the office held me. And in that room, I found a safe place.

It’s been almost a year since I’ve seen Jenny, yet I will always think of her and that office as a safe place that breathed life into parts of me that were dying. The memories of the work that we did in that space—the laughter and tears and conversations that occurred—often still ground me when I feel things starting to spin out of control. I think of her presence in the rocking chair, yellow pad of paper and pen in hand, glasses around neck, gentle smile on face, and I hear her say, “It’s good to see you, Deanna,” and I know that I am going to be okay.

But it’s not just those memories that are safe space anymore. It’s current relationships, experiences, and places where I know I can be fully myself—the good, bad, and ugly. It’s being loved and trusted; accepted and not condemned. It’s being vulnerable and real; steady but expanding. It’s being seen and heard. It’s breathing comfort and silence and laughter and tears. It’s understanding and life-giving. Actually, it’s kind of like the theme song to “Cheers” now that I think about it:

Making your way in the world today takes everything you’ve got. Taking a break from all your worries sure would help a lot. Wouldn’t you like to get away? Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name. And they’re always glad you came. You want to be where you can see, troubles are all the same. You wanna be where everybody knows your name. You wanna go where people know, people are all the same. You wanna go where everybody knows your name.
What about you? What does “safe place” mean to you? And do you have a safe place in your life?

(And for the record…I was going to write about swimming last night at 10:45pm. Half of the sky was cloudy from earlier storms. Half was covered with stars. Before I knew it, the clouds had moved away and other stars had appeared. I totally wasn’t expecting it. And it was beautiful. And the exact opposite of my song, “Fireflies.” :-))