‘Stay safe’ no more

By: Rebecca Liston

I do not want to “stay safe,” friends.

Of all the things I am most tired of, it is hearing those two little words and trying to pretend that I could actually – ever – do that: “Stay safe.”

Truthfully I simply do not know how to “stay safe.”

I have walked The Razor’s Edge (as my beloved Shamanic Teacher calls it) for so long that it is all that I know.

And it is many things on that Edge…but “safe” is not one of them.

Do you know the Edge of which I speak, my friend? 

(I suspect you do, Dear Reader…I suspect you do.)

It is, for me, the Edge Between the Worlds…that fine, thin line between the Seen and the Unseen…the Real and the Mystical…the Practical and the Magical…the Safe and the…Unknown.

It is the Place in which my Ancestors’ words reach me with clarity that I feel in my bones.

The Place where my Knowing teeters on the brink of Becoming…Known.

It is the Time of Day when the colours of the sky are blushing towards Day…and again, in the evening, when they whisper away into the Dark.

It is the place where I feel most Alive, sometimes dangerously so. 

And never, ever, safely so. 

It may appear to some to be the Edge of Reason.

(I suspect those who see it that way are simply unable to see it otherwise.)

And it may feel to some as though it is the Edge of Despair.

(I can certainly say it has, from time to time, felt that way to me.)

It is a brink.

A border.

A boundary.

A line in the sand.

Some may even call it a Threshold.

It is, no matter what its name, a place where Things Change.

And that rarely – if ever? – feels safe.

And yet…

It is where I myself am most comfortable. 

It is where I am most Myself.

It is where I do my best Work.

(From where else could I so easily slip into that Other Part of my Being that channels and tracks the Unseen and as-of-yet-Unknown?)

And it is where I greet my fellow Journey-ers with a smile and a nod as I witness them crossing their own Thresholds…the ones that scare them…that delight them…that they cannot help but move across even as some parts of them fight like mad to stay back…to stay the same…to stay…safe.

But Armchair Warriors they are not.

And cross that Threshold they do.

There may not be a more glorious site in all the Land…a more glorious event to witness…and more glorious moment to behold.

And so I live at The Razor’s Edge, where “staying safe” does not apply. 

(Because I simply cannot imagine a better place to Be.)

And so, my friends, while we may not agree on All Things at this moment in time, let us agree on this: Let us, not one of us, “stay safe.”

Let us instead tip our heads towards the starry Sky and drink in the energy of the Cosmos.

Let us dip our toes into the frigid waters of the Sea and delight in the squish of the sand beneath us.

Let us relish in the Rain that pours from our Skies, breathe deep of the Air that rushes towards our open lungs, and race to greet the Sun each morn.

Let us move.

Let us shake.

Let us dance.

Let us Walk that Razor’s Edge, and tumble across that Threshold with joy in our Hearts and grins on our faces.

Despite our fear.

(Despite our really deep, deep fear.)

Let us not “stay safe,” my friends.

Let us move boldly, joyfully, into the Unknown.

And let us do it, together.

All love,

Rebecca Liston is cofounder and business intuitive at Las Peregrinas, a creative and consulting agency. She specializes in anchoring folks in a clear-eyed understanding of which path is theirs for the taking. She’s got one foot in the land of the subtle and unseen, and the other foot firmly planted in the land of ruthless pragmatism. Oh, and she swears like a sailor, which makes us love her more.

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