A Little on Boundaries

Breathe. Is this mine to take on? Breathe again.

I had planned to have an evening at home getting some computer work done and sorting my laundry, but I got an SOS text this afternoon from my friend in crisis, needing another mom in the house for however long I could come.

I said I’d plan to head over after a visit from my foster dog’s prospective family. But instead of zooming away in urgency after the couple and their three-year-old walked out the gate, I finished vacuuming the downstairs, which I had been doing when they arrived.

Then I picked up my favorite basket and spent ten minutes picking raspberries in the front yard.

I had wanted to pick some yesterday, but I waited too long and it got dark while I was talking to my neighbor. Soft and moldy ones had already been falling to the ground, so I didn’t want to wait another day, and I didn’t know what time I’d be home.

It may sound like I’m trying to legitimize spending ten minutes picking berries in my front yard, and, well, that’s what I’m trying to do. Boundaries are a constant learning, and sometimes I have to convince myself that they are okay.

The word “boundary” often conjures some sort of line or wall that we are putting up against someone else. But I find it helpful to think of some boundaries as gates or fences to keep myself in check, at least for a moment.

One of those types of gate-boundaries that is extremely important in pastoral work is separating someone else’s emotional urgency from your own. That doesn’t mean that you don’t react promptly, but it does mean that you don’t take on the emotional experience of the other person. You keep that gate closed, and it actually helps you to be able to react in a way that is more focused on the needs of that person and more aware of what you can and cannot offer.

When the emotional gate is latched, it can function healthily by opened or closed with intention. It’s my friend’s responsibility to ask for what she needs, and it’s my responsibility to say yes, no, or maybe as truthfully as possible, depending on my capacity at the moment.

Another of those types of gate-boundaries - and one that is extremely hard for me - is to hold as equally important and sacred the moments and practices that I do for my own nourishment.

Of course, helping people also feeds me in so many ways! But I’m so tempted to de-prioritize moments of rest or pleasure that don’t have some sort of direct impact beyond myself. And yes, I cognitively know that doing things “just for me” ultimately has an impact on other people - it’s just still hard for me to integrate that into my daily choices.

My eleven-year-old was recently telling me how he likes to sit and read with his dad when his dad is reading on the porch. As I affirmed how wonderful that was, he said,

“Mom, I would do that with you, but you never sit and read!”

Well!

I explained that a lot of the books I’ve “read” in the last few years have been audio books while I do the dishes and sort laundry. And I shared that I actually love to sit and read, but it’s so hard for me to let myself do that when there is always another thing to be done.

It reminded me of how reading had been part of our marital dysfunction. My ex-husband would sit and read and completely disengage from what was going on in the household around him. I remember feeling resentful as I went around doing household duties and not understanding why he didn’t look up and say, “Do you want some help?” And I felt jealous that it felt like he could just choose to check out, whereas if I finally sat down with a book, the kids would immediately demand engagement.

Now, of course my resentment was my own problem. I didn’t state my needs. He also didn’t articulate what he needed, either; he just took it without discussing what might work for both of us. I was struggling with believing I didn’t deserve rest, he was struggling with avoidance and defensiveness…it was an all-around mess.

However. In the very unhealthy mess of it all, I can acknowledge that one reason I felt so frustrated is that I longed to be able to “fence off” that time for myself, to feel like it was okay for me to do that, even when much was left undone. It was one thing to relax and watch a show or do a crossword with my spouse; it was another thing to read just with myself.

I told my oldest that he could help me try to start sitting and reading for 15 minutes each day. I took initiative a few days ago when the kids were playing Minecraft and I came in and sat on the bed with a book for a bit, consciously making a decision to delay cooking dinner.

Picking raspberries today was both of those kinds of gate-boundaries. I was preserving a little pocket of something that is pleasurable and just with myself. And I was also building in a breathing space, using that time and presence in my yard to create a tangible space of separation between the two of us. After all, the closer you are to someone, the more careful you have to be to maintain your own personhood and resist merging.

And yes, I have to remind myself that maintaining my own personhood and resisting merging is not selfish - it is actually honoring both the other and me (and our Creator!) to affirm that we are two separate and unique people.

One of my friends recently posted about how boundaries are self-care, which is what got me thinking about this. In being self-care, they also become other-care. I was so proud of my friend tonight for telling one of her children that she was really not able to engage with them like they wanted to because she had to get more than two hours of sleep in order to be able to parent them tomorrow.

I’ve grown a lot over the last few years in drawing healthier boundaries around pockets of self-care, like prioritizing going to yoga class, writing this blog, and baking. Except for the glaring exception of boundaries around sleep, I am doing an okay job at still making sure I do some of the practices I need, even if I end up losing work hours at my job.

I’m always low on PTO, not just because of medical and dental appointments for the kids and me, but also because I might meet a friend for coffee, or go on a walk - I spread my vacation out as a trickle all year, haha. That can help sustain me…but I also am finding myself desperate for actual time away.

I’ve got the challenge and opportunity this week, though, of taking 2.5 days just for me to drive down and meet up for two nights with one of my “fire friends” (i.e. we’ve been through the flames of life together). Why does it feel so hard for me to be okay with even such a short and frugal time of rest and rejuvenation?

Perhaps there is a boundary I’ve drawn around myself that needs to be shifted, expanded - the gate needs to open, and God’s declaration of worthiness needs to come in. I’ve been titrating my self-care as necessary, and maybe it’s okay to let a little stream of extended time-space boundaries flow for a couple days.

I did end up bringing a few raspberries to my friend in crisis, of course. I’ll stick the rest in the freezer, and tomorrow I’ll finish the plum jam that I started while typing this - look how beautiful the blanched and skinned fruits are! Yes, I must have been feeling drained when I got home and needed to nourish myself by writing and cooking.

For now, I guess I should go to…sleep! The Final Boundary Frontier!

Okay, well, knowing life, sleep is just one of many of my boundary frontiers. How can I write a blog post about something I am so mediocre at, like these gate-boundaries? Haha. Well, we are companions on this journey, friends.