From Safe to Brave

Together we will create brave space
Because there is no such thing as a “safe space” …

Micky Scottbey Jones

This article was written by Anastasia Priyamvada, experiential educator, theatre pedagogue and founder of Olotites.

A Compassion-Centred Approach for Teams and Learning Spaces

How small, embodied invitations and clear agreements make bravery possible without sacrificing safety

Imagine entering a space alongside other people, positioning yourself somewhere — maybe in a formed circle with pillows, on couches shaped by the space’s geography, on chairs, yoga mats, or a mix of what’s available.

What do you do? Where do you place yourself? What do you choose to use? Who do you sit next to? Do you move around?

Then the facilitator asks you all these questions and invites you to reflect internally on the why behind your choices. And then, without further introduction, continues:

“Close your eyes… or let your gaze rest softly on one point in front of you.
Notice your body. What does it need right now to feel just a little more comfortable in this space?
Maybe it’s a stretch ?

Maybe it’s leaning back into your chair — or even changing your seat entirely.”

This is often how one of my sessions begins: with an invitation to slow down, tune in, be present — and then choose.

Perhaps your body tells you it needs movement, a deep breath, or a light stretch. As this process unfolds and you’re guided to tune in more deeply, it’s not uncommon for people to melt into their position or onto the floor — because, unsurprisingly, that’s where comfort is often found in the middle of a fast-paced day. Others may start pacing slowly, jumping, or shaking, breaking free from a sedentary rhythm. Some might realise they need a sip of water or a small snack and, cautiously and curiously — because it’s not the usual invitation when entering a workshop — they go explore. Others stay seated but subtly shift posture: uncrossing arms or legs, leaning back, or simply settling more fully into their chair.

All of this is welcome.

This is the first act of self-compassion in my sessions.

When a group begins by tending to its individual members in this way, it is already practising the central axis of my work: compassion and self-compassion in action.

Here, self-compassion means :

• I noticed a need (mindfulness).
• I met that need without judgement (self-kindness).
• I wasn’t the only one with a need — others were caring for theirs too (common humanity).

What may seem like a simple invitation — to pause in a hectic day, listen inwardly, and do what you need in front of others — is not “just” a warm-up or icebreaker. It is a deliberate entry point into embodied awareness, agency, and shared permission.

It invites people to act without needing to justify themselves.

In many mindfulness practices, the emphasis is on noticing a need without exaggerating or ignoring it — and that is the base of this activity. But here, the invitation goes further: to act on the need even if it does not look “proper”, even if you have never been witnessed doing such a thing in a group. To go bold, if needed.

Self-kindness means responding without self-criticism or judgement, supported by explicit permission from the facilitator to follow through. Common humanity means knowing that everyone else is navigating needs of their own, in a space where those needs are considered valid.

Even if others are not actively watching or “witnessing” you — another practice quietly woven into every session — they are still present with you. This becomes a form of accompanying: a kind of self-centred co-accomplishing, where each person tends to their own experience while remaining in shared presence.

Safe Enough to Be Brave

Some years ago, while entering a working space of a training, as a participant, I noticed a small poem written on the window glass. I don’t usually recall exact words from memory, so I later reached out to the community of that space to find it again.

The poem was Invitation to Brave Space by M. S. Jones :

Together we will create brave space
Because there is no such thing as a “safe space”
We exist in the real world
We all carry scars and we have all caused wounds.
In this space
We seek to turn down the volume of the outside world.
We amplify voices that fight to be heard elsewhere,
We call each other to more truth and love
We have the right to start somewhere and continue to grow.
We have the responsibility to examine what we think we know.
We will not be perfect.
It will not always be what we wish it to be
But
It will be our brave space together,
And
We will work on it side by side.

by Micky Scottbey Jones

Perhaps not in that exact moment, but somewhere connected to that experience, something shifted for me — from wanting and needing “safe spaces” to valuing safe enough spaces to be brave. I took what was offered and, as I often do, adapted it to fit my own language and practice. Since then, I’ve frequently used the phrase safe enough to be brave.

The phrase reflects a trauma-informed understanding of learning and participation: growth happens when we stretch just beyond what is familiar, not when we are pushed into fear. If the stretch feels unsafe, our system shifts into protection and the willingness to engage collapses. A safe-enough container does not remove challenge, but ensures that challenge remains manageable, supported, and reversible.

True growth — in education, in creative work, in collaboration — doesn’t happen in comfort zones alone. But it also doesn’t happen in fear.

A safe-enough container is one in which people feel secure enough to take a step into the unknown. It is not about removing all difficulty or risk, but about calibrating the level of challenge so it can be met without overwhelming the system.

This is why the quality of the environment matters so much — and why the readiness, awareness, and experience of the facilitator are essential, especially when participants are brave enough to take a risk and find themselves unsettled.

How Safety Is Actively Built

That kind of environment does not happen by accident. It is built.

Often, this happens through what are called group agreements. You might also hear them referred to as learning agreements or, in therapeutic contexts, contracts. They are not official documents, even if they sometimes involve a symbolic or actual signing. Whether co-created with the group or introduced by the facilitator, they are shared understandings: agreements about confidentiality, listening without interruption, participation, and care for oneself and others.

In non-formal education, these agreements build trust. In therapeutic settings, they help define the working alliance. In classrooms, similar agreements are often used to support shared expectations, mutual respect, and a learning environment where participation feels safer for everyone.

The aim is similar: to create conditions where a person can explore new skills or ideas without fear of shame, without being pushed too far, and without being left unsupported — all while respecting the physical and emotional safety of others.

Although agreements may be shared or co-created, the facilitator carries a distinct responsibility: to hold the container, notice when safety wavers, and support the group in returning to regulation.

Lineage, Context, and Possibilities

A frame offers both boundaries and freedom. Understanding where a practice comes from supports clarity, integrity, and care.

These practices are not direct transmissions of the traditions mentioned, but contemporary adaptations informed by their principles and shaped by the contexts in which they are applied.

When I speak of lineage, I mean the roots and influences from which a practice has grown. Beyond theoretical clarity or citation, this matters ethically. It helps facilitators respect therapeutic and cultural boundaries, understand original intentions, and refine their own approach when applying practices elsewhere.

This particular activity draws from multiple traditions :

• from theatre pedagogy — grounding before a scene
• from somatic psychology — the understanding that bodily awareness supports emotional regulation
• from mindfulness — presence without judgement
• from participatory arts — meaning co-created through shared presence

Knowing the lineage allows facilitators to adapt practices responsibly, to sense when something light may also run deep, and to remain attentive to potential discomfort — especially for participants with trauma histories — and to guide them back to safety when needed.

Because it draws from multiple traditions, this way of working translates across contexts:

• In education — readiness to learn.
• In the arts — presence and ensemble.
• In therapy-adjacent spaces — safety and regulation.
• In team-building — attunement and awareness.
• In nature-based work — an entry point into eco-centric approaches.

The core remains the same; the framing changes.

At its heart, this is non-formal education: intentional, structured learning that happens outside formal or academic schooling. It is experiential learning, where people learn through direct experience and reflection, engaging body, mind, and emotion together.

My work weaves together group dynamics, theatre, psychology, social work, indigenous wisdom, and compassion-based approaches. It borrows from — but is not confined to — art therapy, drama therapy, somatic psychologies, Focusing, and mindfulness.

I remember a moment in a small group of colleagues when I mentioned that a particular activity was influenced by the work of Augusto Boal — and someone with a much deeper knowledge of his work than mine offered a rich, in-depth analysis. Years ago, that would have unsettled me. I remember thinking: how can I work with practices whose full depth I do not completely master?
Over time, that discomfort became clarifying rather than destabilising. I came to see that ethical practice does not require total mastery of every lineage it touches, but honesty about influences, care in adaptation, and a willingness to keep learning. I cannot know everything in full depth — and that does not mean I cannot begin, work responsibly, and remain in dialogue with the traditions that inform my practice.

But Isn’t It Therapy?

Although this work can have therapeutic effects, it is not designed or delivered as therapy. Its aim is educational and capacity-building: to support awareness, self-regulation, relational skills, and choice within learning and group contexts. Any deeper therapeutic process belongs outside the scope of these spaces and requires appropriately held therapeutic support.

If you ask me, “Are you a therapist?” the answer is no. Even though I have, at times, felt drawn to immersing myself more deeply in therapeutic modalities and psychological frameworks, my work is not therapy. And at the same time, it would feel dishonest to deny that it can have therapeutic qualities. People often describe feeling more regulated, more connected, or more compassionate towards themselves and others. I stay with this tension intentionally: working in educational and experiential spaces that can be deeply meaningful, while remaining clear about what my role is — and what it is not.

That said, people often leave sessions feeling calmer, more connected, and more resourced than when they arrived. They may discover new ways of relating to themselves and to others. These shifts do not always appear as dramatic internal breakthroughs — though those can happen — but often show up in everyday life, subtly and meaningfully.

When familiar challenges arise, participants notice they meet them differently. The inner voice becomes less harsh. The inner critic softens; the inner compassionate voice steps forward. Situations that once triggered strong reactions may hold less charge — or participants may relate to that activation with more acceptance and steadiness.

Sometimes the shift shows up relationally: people collaborate with more ease and curiosity, even with colleagues who were not part of the same session. There is more room for difference, less urgency to defend.

At its core, my work is about education, creativity, community — and whenever possible, nature. My intention is to create spaces where people can practise awareness, safety, compassion, authenticity, and connection — and then carry those skills beyond the room.

Every session begins with a choice: where to place yourself, how to meet your needs, how to start. That small act is a seed.

The real work is what you carry out of the space: the permission to notice, the courage to act, and the compassion to let others do the same.

A closing invitation

So here’s to creating spaces where compassion can take root, grow, and travel — from the room we begin in, to every corner of life we touch.

The poem was Invitation to Brave Space by Micky Scottbey Jones :

Together we will create brave space
Because there is no such thing as a “safe space”
We exist in the real world
We all carry scars and we have all caused wounds.
In this space
We seek to turn down the volume of the outside world.
We amplify voices that fight to be heard elsewhere,
We call each other to more truth and love
We have the right to start somewhere and continue to grow.
We have the responsibility to examine what we think we know.
We will not be perfect.
It will not always be what we wish it to be
But
It will be our brave space together,
And
We will work on it side by side.

The practices described here are informed by interdisciplinary work across education, psychology, theatre, and somatic approaches. The following texts offer useful entry points for further exploration.

Sources / Bibliography

Self-Compassion – Kristin NeffTrauma

Sensitive Mindfulness – David Treleaven

Experiential Learning – David A. Kolb

Games for Actors and Non-Actors – Augusto Boal

About the Author and Project

Anastasia Priyamvada Charitidou is an  experiential educator, theatre pedagogue, and founder of Olotites. She is also a project manager and creator of EU- funded initiatives focused on compassion, wellbeing, and empowerment. With a background in embodiment, compassion- based education, and international youth work, she explores how inner well-being and social change are deeply interconnected. She currently co-leads the Erasmus+ project “comPASSION is sexy” across Greece and France.

About this article:
This article was written in the context of the Erasmus+ KA210- YOU small-scale partnership project “comPASSION is sexy” (Project Code: 2024- 3- FR02- KA210-YOU-000295806), co-funded by the European Union. The project is a collaboration between Les Philentropes (France) and Olotites (Greece), focused on compassion-based approaches to youth empowerment, inclusion, and well-being.

Funded by the European Union. Views and opinions expressed are, however, those of the author(s) only and do not necessarily reflect those of the European Union or the European Education and Culture Executive Agency (EACEA). Neither the European Union nor the granting authority can be held responsible for them.

Want to learn more ?