Safety Cones

The Congregation parking lot is getting some much-needed repairs this week. Some safety issues are being corrected for the well-being of our community and all the people we welcome into this space. For a while, though, we’ve had orange safety cones marking some spots as unsafe. If I’m driving or walking in those areas, the cones advise me to use an extra measure of caution. Or even avoid them altogether.

Safety cones are meant as a temporary warning. They aren’t intended as permanent fixtures. If those bright cones stick around long enough, though, some people stop noticing them. What’s intended as a temporary precaution becomes just another feature of the landscape.

And sometimes we get so accustomed to avoiding an area, we keep steering clear even after the cones are removed! (I’m curious whether our behavior will change once the repairs are completed, or if we’ve ingrained some habits that will persist beyond their need.)

We put safety cones around some conversations and relationships, too. We decide that a topic is too dangerous to approach, and we steer clear of it. Or we believe that any conflict runs the risk of erupting out of control, so we keep things superficial. Some of our relationships wind up with so many safety cones it’s a wonder we can navigate them at all!

Some of our relational safety cones might be the result of experience. I may know how a particular topic has been received in the past, and I don’t want to relive that experience. So, I put up a safety cone and decide to avoid that topic altogether.

Every warning isn’t about something I’ve experienced, though. Some of my safety cones are about what I’m afraid might happen if… There might not be any real danger in bringing up a subject, but I feel vulnerable enough about it that I decide to steer clear of potential discomfort.

How deeply can we connect with others if we avoid every possible uncomfortable experience? How deeply can we be known and loved if we’re constantly navigating a dense field of warning cones? I’m not suggesting that every subject is safe to dive into with anybody, regardless of the circumstances. But we might be more capable of honest, vulnerable connection than we realize.

If we just left the orange cones in our physical space and never did anything about them aside from avoiding the area, the problems would eventually get worse. Repair is necessary at some point. Just steering clear of the hazard is only a short-term solution.

I wonder if the same is true in our relationships. If we flag some area as dangerous or risky, maybe we have options beyond avoiding it altogether. I suppose some of us rev our engines and try to plow through uncomfortable areas as quickly (and well-armored!) as possible. Maybe we can approach with caution and tread mindfully, taking some extra time to center ourselves and prepare to offer patience and grace. In fact, maybe in our relationships, the places with bright safety cones are the places we most need to go with our closest circle of trusted friends.

What “safety cones” do you put up in your relationships? How do you deal with those areas you label as dangerous? What might it be like to repair what needs some attention in those places?

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