You're Safe Now
Our bodies speak to us. They have a way of speaking danger, or telling us that something is off, or I don’t want to go there. Our circumstance from an observer may look entirely safe, but our body can tell us otherwise. We tend to outsource our authority telling ourselves “no, don’t listen to that impulse - you are safe. Another person said so.” And yet, when we outsource our authority and we lose our voice over our intuition, we do not honor ourselves and the things our body, by divine design, is naturally communicating.
Our bodies can also feel safe, or at ease as we connect with others, or lifted in elation when we behold a sacred moment. Our bodies are intentionally designed by God, and they take care of us.
Personally, it took me more than three decades to feel entirely safe, to calm my nervous system down, to bring the fight or flight response into a normal range. I remember when I was laid bare in a hospital gown ready to bring my oldest into the world, My husband kept whispering in my ear, “you’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe”. I am not certain why that was the phrase that I needed as my stomach was cut open to deliver our breech baby. I was so vulnerable and scared, and safety was the soul remedy I needed most. After those words were given to me, an incredible life broke forth. My body craved a deep inner knowing of, “I am safe” in that uncertain moment.
It took another decade for me to be able to tell myself those words - and to embody them. I am still working through all the details of how my life as a child resulted in an adult that did not have an internal sense of safety. I have found that the vessel I live in is a good partner in understanding my past.
Many are looking for massive trauma as the reason for an internal unrest, but often, even when you find your traumas, they have been so normalized and woven into your narrative, your DNA, that they do not even appear large anymore. For this reason, many stop looking. And they tell themselves, “I’m fine. I’m good. I am so fortunate to not have had this or that happen to me.” But, the repetitive dismissal of tiny traumas can hold us back from a Niagara Falls effect of freedom and joy, and owning one's story.
Our bodies speak to us. They have a way of speaking danger, or telling us that something is off, or I don’t want to go there. Our circumstance from an observer may look entirely safe, but our body can tell us otherwise. We tend to outsource our authority telling ourselves “no, don’t listen to that impulse - you are safe. Another person said so.” And yet, when we outsource our authority and we lose our voice over our intuition, we do not honor ourselves and the things our body, by divine design, is naturally communicating.
Our bodies can also feel safe, or at ease as we connect with others, or lifted in elation when we behold a sacred moment. Our bodies are intentionally designed by God, and they take care of us.
Personally, it took me more than three decades to feel entirely safe, to calm my nervous system down, to bring the fight or flight response into a normal range. I remember when I was laid bare in a hospital gown ready to bring my oldest into the world, My husband kept whispering in my ear, “you’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe”. I am not certain why that was the phrase that I needed as my stomach was cut open to deliver our breech baby. I was so vulnerable and scared, and safety was the soul remedy I needed most. After those words were given to me, an incredible life broke forth. My body craved a deep inner knowing of, “I am safe” in that uncertain moment.
It took another decade for me to be able to tell myself those words - and to embody them. I am still working through all the details of how my life as a child resulted in an adult that did not have an internal sense of safety. I have found that the vessel I live in is a good partner in understanding my past.
Many are looking for massive trauma as the reason for an internal unrest, but often, even when you find your traumas, they have been so normalized and woven into your narrative, your DNA, that they do not even appear large anymore. For this reason, many stop looking. And they tell themselves, “I’m fine. I’m good. I am so fortunate to not have had this or that happen to me.” But, the repetitive dismissal of tiny traumas can hold us back from a Niagara Falls effect of freedom and joy, and owning one's story.
Our bodies speak to us. They have a way of speaking danger, or telling us that something is off, or I don’t want to go there. Our circumstance from an observer may look entirely safe, but our body can tell us otherwise. We tend to outsource our authority telling ourselves “no, don’t listen to that impulse - you are safe. Another person said so.” And yet, when we outsource our authority and we lose our voice over our intuition, we do not honor ourselves and the things our body, by divine design, is naturally communicating.
Our bodies can also feel safe, or at ease as we connect with others, or lifted in elation when we behold a sacred moment. Our bodies are intentionally designed by God, and they take care of us.
Personally, it took me more than three decades to feel entirely safe, to calm my nervous system down, to bring the fight or flight response into a normal range. I remember when I was laid bare in a hospital gown ready to bring my oldest into the world, My husband kept whispering in my ear, “you’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe”. I am not certain why that was the phrase that I needed as my stomach was cut open to deliver our breech baby. I was so vulnerable and scared, and safety was the soul remedy I needed most. After those words were given to me, an incredible life broke forth. My body craved a deep inner knowing of, “I am safe” in that uncertain moment.
It took another decade for me to be able to tell myself those words - and to embody them. I am still working through all the details of how my life as a child resulted in an adult that did not have an internal sense of safety. I have found that the vessel I live in is a good partner in understanding my past.
Many are looking for massive trauma as the reason for an internal unrest, but often, even when you find your traumas, they have been so normalized and woven into your narrative, your DNA, that they do not even appear large anymore. For this reason, many stop looking. And they tell themselves, “I’m fine. I’m good. I am so fortunate to not have had this or that happen to me.” But, the repetitive dismissal of tiny traumas can hold us back from a Niagara Falls effect of freedom and joy, and owning one's story.