Days 7 & 8: I need safety, I need security / We need safety, We need security
time with family, the energy of belonging and safety, and the intersections of ICE
I need safety. I need security.
We need safety. We need security.
I need to feel safe and secure.
I deserve to feel safe and secure.
We deserve to feel safe and secure—
but, my dear friends and community,
what is that?
What is safety in an unsafe world?
What is security in an insecure world?
How do I—and how do we—embody an essence and engage with our needs when so much divides and distracts me and us away from that?
This past week with family has reminded me of what is possible in the presence of those who ensure I feel safe—and don’t get it wrong, I have chosen family and circles around me that do that for me too—but to be with those who come from the same root systems, the same ancestral lines, the ones that share in on the stories of all our highs, all our lows, all our moments of collapse and defeat as well as all our victories and grows… now that, to me, is pure magick. Bliss in bodily form. Nourishment to the nervous system. A remembering of what I’ve always needed: the right to rest into being.
I need that.
I need those around me who mirror to me that I am worthy and perfect and possible—exactly as I am.
I held and heard and have what I need to show up in my skin with all it’s makings of me, here and now.
I need the laughter, I need the tears, I need the voices that not only share the wisdom yet also listen with me into the questions—into the curiosities of why and how and when—with no need to control or manage any sort of outcome.
Presence—pure presence.
It is an integral ingredient to me knowing I am safe.
It is an integral ingredient to me feeling secure.
In my body. In my mind. In my heart.
And with my Spirit.
What I need and deserve is not singular to me or mine. Yet it is the foundation, the ground floor, the deep soil from which we all can rise.
How can we build and blossom if we have no anchor, no ground holding us down and holding us up—with love, openness, discernment, and honesty?
How do we engage with expansion and evolution if I am overly worked and fatigued in the constant labor of finding safety, the hoping for some sort of security, the instability in me recognizing the instability in all?
And yet—still—the dreamer in me, the healer in me, the hopeful, tired, trying, willing part of me—believes.
Believes we could know a way and a world where safety and security are innate, normalized, prioritized, precious.
What if we all did the damn and Divine thing of finding our way home to ourselves and to each other?
What if we expanded upon the foundational birthrights of belonging, and received the blessings that come when we remember we are sacred, we are needed, we are enough?
What if we had what we need—as well as what we deserve?
I will be integrating these last few days for a while.
The time I had with family and kin—who allow me to be, and greet, who I am—was healing. Holy. Human.
I do not always feel safe in this world.
I do not always feel secure in my relationships.
I do not always feel I can just be present as I am in the environments that hold me.
Yet, alongside them—and those who give full permission to be that, to do that—I feel whole.
And in that wholeness, I feel safe. I feel secure.
I feel the very thing that is most often missing: belonging.
And I do not ever want to lose that.
I do not ever want to cease or limit that for another.
Energetically, we have our root system—our first chakra, Muladhara.
This energy center lives at the base of the spine and extends through the pelvic floor, down the legs, and through the feet into the Earth. It governs our survival, our security, our sense of trust in life, and the relationships that give us permission to exist fully.
The root chakra is connected to the element Earth, to our ancestors, our bloodlines, our physical safety, our homes, our food, our rest, and our ability to remain in a regulated, rooted, resourced state.
It is the soil of our spiritual and psychological being.
Without roots, nothing can rise.
Without nourishment, nothing can bloom.
Without safety, nothing can soften.
To know our roots is to know that we are here to rise.
To remember that we belong.
That we have a place.
That our body is not a battleground—it is home.
Yet I hold this question: what is it to belong?
What is belonging in a world where we are witnessing suffering—too often silent, too often ignored—because of the violent projections of supremacy, control, and fear?
This week, as I was held by the love and joy of my Garcia side, I couldn’t ignore what was happening outside of that sacred space—ICE raids in Los Angeles intensifying.
So many brown bodies.
So many human beings with families, dreams, gifts, and souls—being taken.
Without the dignity of knowing where they are.
Without care.
Without legal counsel.
Without basic human rights.
This is state-sanctioned violence.
This is systemic cruelty.
This is racism.
This is white supremacy and its painfully predictable perpetuation of trauma.
And it is happening now.
Here.
In our country.
By design.
And by those who have the power to stop it—and choose not to.
So I ask again:
How can we feel safe?
How can we be secure?
When this is our reality?
I feel the only way forward is through resistance.
Through truth-telling.
Through courage.
I feel it will only be possible by doing the bold and beautiful thing of naming it, seeing it, and acting skillfully and sacredly against it.
There is no neutral.
There is no “not mine.”
All of this is ours.
If you feel like there is nothing you can do—start with your roots.
Tend to your nervous system.
Tend to your relationships.
Tend to your own ability to be a safer space in the world.
Impact your environment by being firm in your love, and even firmer in your accountability.
Ask yourself:
What do you accept?
What do you normalize?
What do you avoid?
What do you neglect?
Do not let your humanness isolate you. Let it ignite you.
Let it remind you that just as you are worthy of moving through this world with joy and dignity and stability—so is everyone else.
And if you are stumbling…
If you are shrinking…
If you are scared…
I understand.
And I reach out my hand and my heart to you.
I vow to keep doing the internal and external work to know my own freedom—and to defend it for others.
I vow to keep being present, and sharing both the hardship and the healing that comes from this journey.
I know I am one drop in the vast sea of humanity.
But I believe in what is possible when those drops come together—wave by wave—to rise.
I’ve never seen a planted seed that didn’t want to bloom.
I’ve only seen what happens when that seed isn’t met with care.
When needs are unmet, people wither.
When love is withheld, people forget they are worthy.
When fear leads, we all fall.
Let’s stop settling. For ourselves, for each other.
The magick, the movement, the mission of being safe, secure, and free is within our hands, our hearts, our heads—and our healing.
Won’t you please help me—by helping you?
Won’t you please support me—by supporting you?
Won’t you please empower me—by empowering you?
And thank you—family, chosen and unchosen—for giving me the space to remember myself.
To return to a system that feels safe and sacred within me.
So that I can extend that care outside of me.
I love you.
I love us.
And as always:
I just want us to know our free.
What’s blocking you is blocking me.
What’s blossoming for you is blossoming for me.
May we please, work together.
