When Safety Becomes Dangerous

On feeling threatened during history’s safest epoch

The Sleeping Gypsy by Henri Rousseau, 1897

Lately, I’ve been contemplating safety. The most basic kind—the needs at the base of Maslow’s hierarchy. Perhaps because I’ve just moved to a new house with more windows, or perhaps because I’ve just signed back onto Twitter, my investigation of safety has spanned from my day-to-day life to our culture writ large.

On the personal front, whenever I notice a subtle sense of unease or agitation, I now allow myself to feel it. That one step took many years to learn. It has only recently become instinct. Indeed, there are plenty of moments throughout plenty of my days when I must ask myself: What feels threatened right now? Where is the danger?

I’ll confess—it’s shocked me how often I find myself asking! In theory, you’d think I’d be better at this by now. The thousands of hours of therapeutic work across disciplines and I still, with astounding frequency, need to remind myself that I am safe.

And, make no mistake, I’m not just safe. As far as human history goes, I am absolutely thriving, relaxed, joyous, with all my needs and most of my wants readily at my disposal. I can set the heat to any temperature in my house. A nice man picks up my trash each week. I mostly eat whatever cuisine I desire. I have time to sit in complete stillness for hours and do “nothing” daily. I earn most of my living exploring people’s psyches through video technology that works like magic. Folks from every state in America and 92 countries read these essays! Compared to my ancestors, who had to scavenge for food on the savannah or escape gas chambers, my life is an utter cakewalk. It’s almost comical. It’s definitely absurd.

Not everyone, of course, has the opportunity to work for these privileges as I did for many years. But most Westerners enjoy a life that is undeniably more comfortable than at any point in history. And you know what: most of us still don’t feel safe! Postmodern society has created a dynamic where pretty much everything is a threat to our safety—pixelated media posts, ungendered bathrooms, classical logic, race-blind casting, polyamory, monogamy, Israel, Palestine, standardized testing, Chick-fil-A, equality, even jokes! Seriously, many comedians no longer bother speaking at college campuses, dare they unleash a microaggression. Dare they unleash an unwholesome truth.

Wearing the comfiest sweatpants imaginable and ordering delivery Thai food, the number of things that can “trigger” a millennial or Zoomer is shocking. Our palms are buttery, soft, moisturized with fancy cream. Sure, I have blisters—from lifting weights intended to mimic the active lifestyle my ancestors once could not avoid, as they had no supermarkets from which to buy Boise bison burgers. Our culture obsesses over “safety first!” and yearns to control as much as possible; thus, our lives become dangerously sheltered. Frankly, it’s kind of pathetic. And I say that as someone dedicated to spreading compassion to all.

But here’s the thing: many people today are, in fact, triggered! Literally traumatized people are being literally triggered producing literal trauma responses—and it hurts! People in their “lived experience” do not feel safe! Existing in modern society can be, on a basic level, traumatizing!

To pretend this isn’t the case is misguided. Our digital environment bombards our brain stems with enough nonsense to make anyone feel unsafe. You don’t have to do anything to be hurt by this world. You just need to perceive, consume, receive. There’s always been something, intellectually at least, to the whole “If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention.” But the people who say that forget: life is still worth living, and a life spent in constant rage and fear is perhaps not worth living, nor ultimately helpful.

Sometimes, I feel like today’s trauma narrative has done more harm than good. I have friends and colleagues, renowned mental health professionals, who feel that Gabor Maté, in raising trauma awareness, has confused an entire generation about what human capacity truly is. Many influential figures, from doctors to online coaches, have become hammers looking for nails—the nails being any sensitivity that can be labeled “trauma.” Yet microaggressions are not trauma. Nor is Bidenomics.

Again, there’s partial truth in the trauma discourse. Each of us has felt the world’s sting. But amidst all the ways modernity threatens our safety and all the ways postmodern discourse confuses us about what’s possible for us as humans, I think we’ve lost sight of the bigger picture. When our safety feels threatened, we’re told to take a couple of restorative breaths. To take a walk. Or, perhaps more common today, we’re told to create and assert boundaries to keep us safe. And we’re taught to demonize, vilify, even crucify the “offending party” regardless of intention or validity. If I’m unsafe, it’s someone’s fault and that person is a monster who must be destroyed. How else can I feel safe—and surely there’s nothing more important?

More fundamental, in my opinion, is recognizing that the sense of psychological safety is best found by surrendering rather than asserting, by accepting rather than clamping down. This doesn’t mean being passive or overly flexible to the point of losing your sense of self.

For many, it requires effort and healing to accomplish this. And healing is increasing your capacity to be with what is. Our amygdalas, which are part of the brain’s fear center, are ancient survival hardware designed to protect us from saber-tooth tigers. Relearning involves accessing your inner strength to feel capable of facing the world and engaging with perceived threats.

You stay in contact with your environment rather than expelling something or drawing singularly inward. If you encounter a hungry bear in the woods, the last thing you want to do is try to kill it. After all, the bear is part of your environment, a magnificent creature, perhaps a bit hairier and more skilled at napping than you are. When you come across a bear in the forest, you don’t run—you make yourself BIG.

Your ancestors fought saber tooth tigers; you can, too. Never forget who you are.

Continuously re-evaluating our concept of harm is also crucial. I might feel triggered or scared, but am I actually being harmed? I still get a bit jittery when I speak in front of a crowd. But hey, public speaking hasn’t been a fatal experience for me yet! Likewise, being insulted is not a one-way ticket to the afterlife.

In other words, if you feel triggered, don’t assume removing the trigger from your life is necessarily preferable or even possible. Rather, let the trigger be there, let it absolutely rip you apart if you must. Be the willow bending to the wind, as the Sage says, not the stubborn oak inevitably snapped in two. Healing, to me, is the ability to fully embrace the complexities of the modern world, encompassing its terrors and beauties, without the need to always be “safe.” You can remember, as I try and remind myself often, that the leading cause of death is life.