The IIlusion of Safety

One major reason we don't indulge in creative activity is safety. We feel there's a part of us that must be protected, kept safe, and that being openly creative will put that part of us at risk. It's as though we'd be naked, exposing who we truly are, and that would be dangerous. We hold back out of a sense of self-preservation.

But what does it mean to preserve something? It only make sense to keep something if it will be put to use later. What's going to change that will guarantee safe passage on our creative journey? There is a real need for continuity, or what George Leonard refers to as homeostasis. As he notes, you're in trouble if your body temperature drops five percent. The need to change and to create, however, is equally real.

Genpo Roshi uses the analogy of climbing a ladder. You can't climb without holding on to each rung, but you can't climb without letting go of each one, either. Movement is an ongoing process of holding on and letting go. We get this easily when it comes to climbing ladders and walking (i.e., falling and catching yourself over and over), but many of us resist this when it comes to life in general.

Our need to be safe reflects the drive for homeostasis, but that alone leaves us holding the bottom rung - standing and staring down the road. Worse, the longer we hold on, the more we exaggerate the dangers of letting go. Our minds take the opportunity to build up detailed, disastrous scenarios that keep us ever more rooted in place. But, as Dogen wrote:

Whatever it is you're trying to grasp, sooner or later you'll lose it again. True wealth is not grasping for anything. It's to shine our light inwards and reflect upon ourselves. If we take a step back, we'll see that there's nothing to grasp, nothing to run after and nothing to run away from.

If you hew solely to the route of self-preservation, you will die with your gifts unopened. It's not a question of if you will let go, but when. Why not now?