Safe

Definitions of [B][I]safe[/I][/B] on the Web:

1. free from danger or the risk of harm
2. strongbox where valuables can be safely kept
3. a ventilated or refrigerated cupboard for securing provisions from pests
4. safe(p): having reached a base without being put out; "the runner was called safe"
5. dependable: financially sound

When I was growing up in Steuben County...the summer evenings consisted of playing Midnight Raiders or Kick the Can around the neighborhood or up in the wooded hills behind my house. It was a free for all...every kid for themselves...and it was a blast. Our only thought was to remain invisible long enough to make it back to home base and safety. Obviously, the first one back was declared the winner, but sometimes the actual fun of the game was just hiding in the woods and watching others get caught. Sometimes I didn't even care that I got back to safety...especially if I found a wild blueberry bush. I'd hang out there, in the shadows, eating the sweet fruit and think, "wow...you guys are sweating and running all over the place trying to get back to where you started from...and I'm eating the best darn blueberries in upstate new york. sucks to be you." I believe that a few times, I never exposed myself at all. I just sat there while they called my name, laying in the tall grass looking up at the milky way and thinking there was no better thing in the world than to be in a place all my own where no one could disturb my peace. Granted, they'd tell my parents, "we can't find Kathi anywhere!" And my Dad would come looking for me with a flashlight and our golden retriever, Sandy. But there was comfort in that as well. It spoke volumes to me that someone cared enough about me to seek me out...to actively look for me, care about my safety and make sure I found my way home.

It's not much different as an adult. For in actuality, living life in a world where very few can be trusted or depended upon, we are all still seeking home base...and safety. When I was feeling aggressive and competitive as a youth, believe me, I played a great game and usually won. I once was SO determined in kicking that stupid can that I sliced my left lower forearm wide open on the thorns of a poison sumac tree. I was working as a team that evening, I think I was 13, with Micky Fisher. Laying low...throwing rocks in opposite directions to throw the others off track...and when I shredded my arm, didn't even holler and kept running towards home, she grabbed her scarf and wrapped it around my arm. Torn, battered, bruised and bleeding...I made it, kicked that darn can and collapsed. They kids walked me home, kept marveling at my tenacity and watched as my Dad drove my sorry butt to the hospital where I remained for a week due to an infection. They couldn't even give me stitches because it was so torn up. But it earned me a lot of respect from the neighborhood kids and especially Micky who insisted I always be her partner.

I've carried that tenacity into my adult life, as well as the constant scrutiny of my immediate surroundings and whose playing the game and how. Sometimes, however, I am having so much fun that I let down my guard. And at other times, I will sit back and watch as the rest of the world runs around in circles while I eat berries in an undisclosed location. However, the goal in my adult life has been to simply find home base....and stay there.

As children we have tons of energy, believe me...i wish I could bottle up Liam's sometime and do shots of it on days where the stress of life wears me down. When we become older, the game is less of a priority...it's the safety we seek.

How disheartening it can be then, to find that what you once thought was your "home base" is really only second or third? (forgive me, i'm a huge Yankee's fan..so baseball was bound to creep into one of these sooner or later.) And all this time you've been standing there waiting for someone to make the right play so you can slide into home? If you think about the way a baseball player gets to that base...it's not a gentle saunter. They run at full speed, digging their feet into the ground and dive or slide, sometimes a great distance away from the plate, at their goal. If they give it all they've got...generally, they make it. But not unscathed. They are dirty, bruised and probably in need of a shower and a physical therapist...but look at their face! I personally love watching those Yankee boys when they win. It is so extremely refreshing to see someone smiling because they did something that was a part of the goal...the dream...what they were trying to do....it's amazing.

Life is like that. Well, for some. I've known many who are content to wallow in some mushy ground, never moving forward, constantly complaining that they are stuck, when all it really takes is one good incentive plan to get them to move. For me, life is an adventure, a journey filled with unexpectedness, some good, some bad...all part of reaching home. I wait for the day when I can hear my inner voice shout, "Safe!" and know I've come home. Is there a chance that may not happen? How many times have you seen a runner not make it to home plate because that pop-up fly ball landed ever so neatly in the outfielder's glove?

I have very few places that I can feel safe. It becomes a daily activity for me now to identify these areas in my life because if I don't, i won't know which way to run when the batter is up. Each place I discover gets tested and tried, until I can breathe a deep sigh and nestle into the comfort of that safe place. Somedays, those sanctuaries are hard to find. One thing I am certain of, is that I must, occasionally, take the time to sit back and not participate in order to find peace and regroup. I am quite certain, however, that just like my Dad and Sandy, someone with a flashlight will find me and take me home.

And that.....is enough.

Peace,
Kat

oh...P.S. the third definition? [B][I]"3. a ventilated or refrigerated cupboard for securing provisions from pests"[/I][/B]? could create an entirely new blog post. Just sayin'.