A Safe Place I Carry with Me
I must not fear. Fear is the sleepover killer.
HOW ARE YOU FEELING?
Tired?
Timid?
Ten feet tall?
I’M GRATEFUL FOR
Changing seasons
Any pizza place open past 10 pm
Walkable cities
Where do you store the safe that you feel?
A few weeks ago I spoke at an event for kids. On purpose. I was asked. And I said yes. Knowing what I was agreeing to. Months ago. This wasn’t a last minute replacement. I was the first choice. On purpose. They knew who they were asking. They weren’t trying to reach some Tyler Johnstone who’s actually incredible with kids and got me instead. They thought I’d do a good job. They had a lot more faith in me than I thought I deserved.
Was I nervous? Yes! Beyond Nervous (that’s artificial nervous grown in a lab)! It’s one thing to bomb in front of adults, but kids? Butt kids?! Kids who act like butts?! That’s high stakes. They won’t hold back. They’ll let you KNOW. No filter. Devastating honesty. Like they’re learning how to hurt someone’s feelings for the first time and you’re their giant guinea pig. At least adults try to be polite. They’ll just sit quiet and uncomfortable if they don’t like what’s happening on stage. Kids will pull their shoes off so they can make sock puppets that sing about how boring you are. And then throw their shoes. At anyone. Now you’ve got a kid with a black eye smelling like feet. Chaos reigns.
The main source of nerves is this thought: once you go up there, you can’t leave. That can be terrifying. Once you take that first step on stage there’s no going back. No matter what. What if you get up there and realize you weren’t ready? Have everything you need? There’s chance halfway through you’ll realize what you’re missing. I forgot a prop! I should have worn a belt and more deodorant. Sorry dude, there’s nothing you can do about it once you’re up there. You gotta make due with what you’ve got. You can’t leave the stage. You can’t pause the audience to figure things out. The train doesn’t stop until it’s back in the station.
I was really hoping I had enough prepared to speak to kids. I really felt like I needed a strong plan if I was going to keep everyone’s attention the whole time. I had stories, props, and my big dumb face to rely on.
I made it to the end. I did realize some things I wish I had with me, but nothing I couldn’t survive without. Didn’t have to run away.
I told a story about a time I wanted to leave and what I did about it. I wasn’t used to telling the story about myself. I grew up hearing my mom tell it any time we had someone new over for dinner.
One time as a kid I ran away. Most kids run away from home, but I went the opposite.
I was staying the night at a friend’s house. Or I was supposed to be, but staying was no longer a part of my plan once the thunderstorm started creeping its way toward our neighborhood.
My friend lived in the house behind mine. The fence of his backyard touched the fence of mine. I could see my kitchen window from his. It would only take 2 shorts hops atop the fences for me to be home.
My friend didn’t like my plan. He wanted me to stay and play with legos and watch Undertaker wrestle on the VHS he got from Blockbuster. I wanted the safety of my own bed! The threat of thunder and lightning was too strong to enjoy anymore legos or tombstone pile drivers. I wanted home.
My friend wanted to wake his parents to tell them about my plan. I told him that wasn’t part of the plan. I’d just leave.
So I did. It was some time after midnight. I was younger than 8, hopping fences, scurrying across yards in the darkness. For some reason the back door to my house was unlocked. I snuck in and got in my own bed.
Safe.
Picture a wild strobe effect across that whole scene. Lightning was showing off that night before the rain even started. It was the opening act.
The headliner took to the skies by the time I was in my room. Suddenly my bed wasn’t enough to feel safe anymore. I needed the big guns.
I’m scared of the storm, I told my dad. Apparently the thunder rattled my sister too. She had just been to my parents and my mom had taken her back to her room. So when my dad told me it was ok for me to get in bed for a bit, there was plenty of room.
Then my mom came back.
She was more awake than my dad.
So when my dad said Careful, Taylor’s in here my mom was able to recognize why that shouldn’t make sense.
How is Taylor here? He’s supposed to be staying the night at his friend’s?
Lights go on.
Surprise!
I’m in so much trouble.
My parents had to call and wake up my friend’s parents. What an awkward phone call. Hey, sorry to wake you. Just wanted to let you know that my son escaped your house and snuck back home. Ok good night!
That was the defining story of my childhood. I don’t think I’ve ever heard another story about me as many times as I’ve heard that one.
I told the kids that story to introduce the idea that you can get the feeling of safety from more than just a place. Courage is taking that safe feeling with you into uncomfortable places. It’s walking on stage knowing you can’t leave until it’s over, no matter what. You’ve got to face it and make it work and not run away. It feels safer offstage. Well, find a way to bring that feeling with you up there.
Have you ever met someone like that? Their body and mind are the safe place they bring with them wherever they go. They’re a living mobile sanctuary. Just having them near feels better. That’s why I’m fascinated by hospital chaplains. They take safety and comfort into some very uncomfortable rooms.
How do you feel prepared for that? Do you go into these rooms not knowing what to expect? It’s not like you can leave halfway through because you realize you didn’t study enough and can’t remember what you should do next.
And it’s true of the best counselors, and pastors, and parents, and grandparents, and siblings, and friends. They carry a safe retreat in their heart with them and they bring it to you when you don’t have anywhere else.
There is a type of safe retreat you can carry with you wherever you go.
Thank you to everyone who came to the show in McKinney!
It was the best performance of the show so far. Everything worked together so well. It’s crazy to see how far the show has come since January.
Can’t wait to take the show more places in 2025.
And thanks to Dakota Wilson for opening the show, and closing it with a Mister Rogers cover. Dakota’s band, Rose Hips, is playing The Double Wide in Dallas on Halloween. You should go.
Love you like a neighbor,
Taylor Johnson