MY\u00a0WEEKLY BLOG<\/p>\n
Where
Do You Feel Safe?<\/p>\n
More\u00a0than twenty years ago, my real estate agent was helping me find a home to buy in\u00a0one of L A\u2019s canyons. We drove higher and higher into what I call \u00a0\u201cnose bleed\u201d territory, \u00a0we stopped beside a For Sale sign, we walked up the front steps and when I crossed the threshold, I exhaled long and hard. I didn’t know I was holding my breath. The view outside the picture windows was breathtaking. The hillside looked like an elaborate train set with miniature cars speeding along invisible tracks. Shots of neon greenery surrounded scattered homes, swaths of pastels streaked the dusky sky, and the odd helicopter and fixed wing plane coursed through broken strings of clouds with black birds gliding in arcs as they rode the gusts of wind. I was home, I felt safe there, I named it \u201cThe Sanctuary,\u201d and I vowed to do whatever was necessary to make it mine and keep it clean and clear.<\/p>\n
I still\u00a0live in The Sanctuary. I still exhale every time I step inside and close the\u00a0door behind me. I have shiny crystals on showcases, the lighting is soft, the\u00a0sofa and chairs are comfortable and I I keep it protected by not allowing\u00a0anyone in my house who doesn’t love me and want the best for me. It’s my safe space,especially my bedroom. I lie on the bed against a mountain of pillows, pull up\u00a0my down comforter and breathe. I take as much down time as I need to get my\u00a0bearings and I don’t feel guilty for doing nothing. Eventually my shoulders\u00a0relax, my breath slows down and my thoughts soften.<\/p>\n
Our environments,\u00a0the containers that surround us, are important. They help calm our nerves and de-escalate\u00a0our anger, but most important is the container called \u201cMe.\u201d We can be in the\u00a0softest place on earth, we can play beautiful music and inhale soothing
aromatherapies, we can meditate and sing and dance, but if we don’t acknowledge\u00a0our stress and practice slowing down our breathing, we might as well be on the\u00a0405 freeway at rush hour.<\/p>\n
This\u00a0world is a treacherous place these days. There are threats of virus variants, nasty\u00a0politics and blatant racism, and we need to find safe way to get through it\u00a0all. I try to always to be with like-minded people, to be in places that help\u00a0me relax, to turn away from what makes me suffer, to focus on what’s working\u00a0instead of what isn’t, and I try to be kind and compassionate with my friends\u00a0and myself.<\/p>\n
I had\u00a0an interesting Thanksgiving this year. You know the Chinese curse, \u201cMay you\u00a0live in interesting times.\u201d A close friend invited me to a dinner at the home\u00a0of a friend of hers, someone I didn’t care for very much. I never felt\u00a0comfortable with him, he was harsh and judgmental, but I decided to try to\u00a0tolerate him for the sake of being with my friend. It started immediately. I\u00a0went inside to ask him if I was parked in the correct place in his driveway and\u00a0he snapped at me, \u201cI have no f***ing idea.\u201d It went downhill from there. No need
to fill in any more details. I left as soon as I could and set a firm boundary\u00a0that I\u2019d been around him for the last time. My story has a happy ending. When I\u00a0got home, I walked across the street and spent the next few hours laughing and\u00a0eating pumpkin cr\u00e8me pie with my neighbors who always take good care of me.<\/p>\n
Safe\u00a0places require boundaries to keep them that way. My mother was raised with the\u00a0belief that if someone had you over for dinner, you had to reciprocate no\u00a0matter what they did or said or how they treated you. I started out following\u00a0her programming but I let it go. I treat myself better than that, and the older\u00a0I get, the more I value my time. When I stop judging and putting demands on\u00a0myself, I get to be with the safest person I know \u2013 me. And that\u2019s what heals\u00a0me.<\/p>\n
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MY\u00a0WEEKLY BLOG WhereDo You Feel Safe? More\u00a0than twenty years ago, my real estate agent was helping me find a home to buy in\u00a0one of L A\u2019s canyons. We drove higher and higher into what I call \u00a0\u201cnose bleed\u201d territory, \u00a0we stopped beside a For Sale sign, we walked up the front steps and when I […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":2026,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2027","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-blog"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2027","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2027"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2027\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2026"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2027"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2027"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.andreacagan.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2027"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}