The Boundaries We Keep
There comes a certain moment, or more like, many moments over the course of a lifetime, where you’re given a choice.
A choice to leap into the unknown, or to stay in the steady, the safe and the secure.
We can decide for ourselves whether we’ll challenge the boundaries containing us, or if instead we’ll continue to live behind the fences we’ve created for ourselves. Something feels safe about those fences that we’ve actively kept up in our own minds. It’s the illusion that we’re keeping something out, deflecting away our invaders.
But what if the fence isn’t really there at all? What happens when we realise that the fence isn’t even an invisible one kept by someone else — but rather a constraint self-imposed that limits us from reaching into the unexplored, beautiful life happening around us? That boundary, it’s only a construct of the mind.
Could that boundary also limit us from moving into who we could become? Does it impose a constraint on our realisation of self, as we’re packing ourselves neatly into this discrete box of imagined safety? Put the lock on the box. Put the box in a drawer. Lock the drawer. How many layers do we need to break through? Imagine what we miss while waiting for a boundary to secure us.
Let’s admit, loudly and out loud, just how little we know of the future ahead. What will happen in the future is unknown, yet we find ourselves making predictions about what it will hold for the sake of creating a sense of certainty in the present. It hides a restlessness, but embracing that restlessness instead of running from it can transform us. Our only true certainty is the fact that we know absolutely nothing of what will come.
But, what air will we breathe tomorrow? Will we have five fingers on each hand and the same for our toes? The sky, we believe it will be there, but will the sun shine? We can move ourselves physically, but what about the transience within us? Where can our minds take us? What if the wildest of our fleeting thoughts were the ones that we pursued? What if instead of taking the bet perceived to be safe and riskless, we reached as far outside of the box as possible to stretch and grab hold of those edging thoughts?
We may know very little, but we can feel everything. It’s a playful acknowledgment to ourselves to understand this, nod, and move forward one step assuredly after the other, even if it’s like having a blindfold on.
When the wind howls at the window of your mind, do you push it closed? One choice, the safe boundaries side speaks to you: close the window, push with all of your might against the tunnel of wind pouring through, lock the window, twist the handle to secure it closed. You feel like you’re inside a safety zone. Did you stop the wind, though? You’ve separated yourself from it, but it’s still very much there.
The other choice surfaces: the one that tells you to face the window, walk towards it, stick your head out and breathe in deeply as the wind hits your face and droplets of rain collect on the tip of your nose. It’s the thought that asks you to open your eyes, to see the lightning dancing over the sea, illuminating the clouds formed above it, calling back and forth to the thunder, light to sound, sound to light.
Fear, what is it? Certainty, how illusory. Relax your eyes. See yourself, see inside yourself. See into yourself. Learn from yourself. Learn yourself.