I’m on the road as this post reaches you. Every once in a while life conspires to provide me a bit of time and inclination to write in advance. Today (yesterday for you) is one of those times. Today’s photo comes from last spring-summer when I did some necessary repairs to my fence because a neighbour backed into it, tilting the fence. She’s a great lady and the damage was just in alignment, not in broken boards or posts, so no hard feelings or anger made an appearance. I was fortunate that I could do the work while nude – just one of those times when life opens doors.
Fences are boundary markers. We use them to provide a safe container for ourselves where we can better express our individual natures. Fences are also prisons behind which we hide, or which keep us contained and out of the view and interaction with others. When we look closer at fences, we see that they not only provide us with a safe space, they also at the same time, imprison us. It’s never and either or situation.
Of course, it isn’t just about fences. We build all kinds of barriers between ourselves and the world, ourselves and others. The first impulse is always about personal safety and survival – keeping dangerous people and dangerous animals and dangerous environmental conditions from hurting us. Yet, no sooner do we build a safe container, we find ourselves prisoners within the safe container.
All that said, the world demands too much of us, threatens us too much to simply leave ourselves fully vulnerable with no safe space or place within which we can retreat. Finding a balance between the extremes is what we need to focus on, consciously, so that we don’t “tilt.”