Safety and Stuckness

     A friend of mine, Max, recently shared an experience he had with his son, a three and half year old I’ll call Finn.  They were visiting fair, a temporary thing built of temporary structures.  One attraction was a sort of obstacle course where children would climb through a tunnel, up a rope net and then slide down a slide into a ball pit.  Finn made it through the tunnel and up the net.  The slide was a tube slide, the kind you can’t see all the way through, and even though Finn knew what awaited him at the bottom he felt hesitant and scared.  He called his dad over for words of support, poking his head through the bars.

    Shortly, Finn realized that his head was stuck.  Quickly but steadily, Max scaled the outside of the play structure and was able to adjust the covers on the bars so his son could wiggle free.  

    Max told me that although it was a stressful event, he kept calm.  I have long admired how Max talks to his child, and can imagine it:  “It’s okay son, I see that you’re stuck and I can help you.”  

    A young child, Finn might have easily become frightened and overwhelmed, thrashing and crying making the rescue more difficult.  But like his dad, he remained calm.  Because of his dad, he felt safe.  Freed, he slid down the slide and continued to play.  My therapist brain reminds me that this a sign of a securely attached kid.  His internal sense of being safe and cared for helps him through fear, and keeps him exploring.  

    In this moment, recalling the conversation and imagining the experience, I take a deep breath.  I feel space in my belly and notice muscles loosening, muscles I hadn’t realized had tightened.  Imagining my friend helping his son feel safe creates a felt sense of safety in me as well. 

    So why am I telling you this?  

    One reason is that I often talk to my clients about having a “felt sense of safety.”  I believe that it is so important spend time seeking this felt sense, in therapy and beyond.  Bringing awareness to naturally occurring positive experiences makes them occur more often. They build up over time.  What we focus on expands.  But understanding what a “felt sense of safety” is can be hard.  The felt sense experience is by its nature difficult to put to words. It may feel elusive, difficult to “catch” or “stay” in.  In therapy we practice tracking the felt sense experience—paying attention to it.  We practice noticing how the felt sense changes.  

    To practice noticing safety, I sometimes suggest bringing to mind a memory of a person place or thing that feels safe.  Other times I suggest finding a physical place inside the body that feels neutral or good.  Other times (and this is the most fun), together we notice feelings of safety as they pop up during the session—experiences of safety that happened in the past, and experiences of safety right there between us.  No matter how the safe feelings show up, we try to expand them, by paying attention to how they feel.  Are there sensations in the body? Changes to the quality of mind? Images or memories? 

    For example, when I reflect on listening to my friend talk about getting his son unstuck from the bars, I am bringing an experience forward.  I allow myself to dwell in it.  I imagine Max’s voice in my head, and then track the experience in my belly.  I notice a sense of openness in my thinking.  It makes me feel safe, and safe feels good.  I think about how safe Finn must feel to have a dad who can calmly help him.  I think about how Max must feel to be able to help.  I remember the safety of our old friendship, and settle in.

    Interestingly, in this safety, I also feel myself, like Finn, become unstuck in a way. I track that feeling as a weight in my hips, some space in my heart. There’s a bit of a sense of flowing inside, and of ease. I have a thought that everything is okay, and then feel a pulse of forward momentum.  It is the impulse to move, and explore.