Walls and Boundaries

The Hermitage

April 2, 2019

After I wrote about my “walls” yesterday, my son and I were discussing the metaphor, and also the necessity everyone has for “boundaries” instead of “walls.”

Boundaries are essential to good emotional health. When I was doing a lot of counseling, Andrea and I would share conceptually about problems clients were having. The sharing was obviously anonymous, with no names given, and even gender changes if necessary We, as any good therapist would, always protected the privacy of our clients. Another way of saying, we had boundaries.

One of the most frequent problems we would encounter would be people with little or no boundaries. At best the boundaries might be called “porous,” or “leaky.” These were the people who were “over sharing.” “Spilling their guts” was another way of putting it. When you have such a common symptom there are usually lots of titles or acronyms that people use to describe the situation. One of my favorites is “TMI!!” (Too Much Information.)

Others were constantly being taken advantage of, or, in worst case scenarios, abused.

What’s the spiritual connection with the distinctions between walls and boundaries?

With “walls,” people, and sometimes even God, are excluded from ever knowing the ‘real’ person.

There’s always a facade. In psychology its a false persona. In architecture ia facade is usually quite elaborate and beautiful. Think of the front of the great Cathedrals. Behind all that embellishment the real framework and structure of the building is quite ordinary.

Usually the building material was brick or stone...common materials found locally.

Now, in your imagination, take that incredible cathedral and strip away all the ornamentation.

What’s left?

Well, it depends on how you view it. If you look at it from one perspective it’s quite ugly.

In my imagination, however, it is still an extraordinary feat of construction. Think of the vaulted ceilings, the flying buttresses, the breathtaking volume of space.

Common? Yes. Incredible? Yes.

And I realize my world is the same. Common? Yes, Incredible? Yes.

If I want to be open and authentic and don’t want facades or walls, what do I need?

Boundaries.

Why boundaries? Because I’m God’s precious child. The implications of that brash statement are staggering, but it’s true. I could quote at least two dozen scriptures to support this amazing statement. And its implications are even more profound.

If I am God’s precious child, he doesn’t want me trampled on! How many stories in the Bible are, in essence, about freedom? Release from slavery (to sin among other things) with safe journey into the promised land. The journey is not without its problems and ups and downs, but a land flowing with milk and honey awaits across the river. We just have to have the determination to make the journey and the courage to put our foot in the water to cross the river.

Reflections

Let’s look a boundaries another way.

I want you to see ‘the real me.’ But the real me is very sacred, precious, and -- often -- fragile.

So how do I do let you see the very, very common -- and yet extraordinary and unique -- person God created me to be, and yet keep you from trampling my rose garden?

I think I build a fence instead of a fortress wall.

There are hundreds, of not thousands, of ways to build a fence. Sometimes fences are brick, sometimes wrought iron, sometimes barbed wire, sometimes just a plain white picket fence. My “Ranch” may have all those on some parts of the “property.”

But however different they may seem, they all have one thing in common.

They all have gates.

Some of which make the wall are more impregnable than others. Some have locks. Some have gate codes. Some are just plain ole latches.

And, as I visualize those fences, I return to St. Theresa’s “Interior Castle” which has many different rooms through which one must journeys to reach the Throne Room.

Now, in reality, my life is...well, let’s say ‘complex.’ If I look down on it from above, (perhaps God’s view?) I see a whole series of walls surrounding my holy space…

• The fortress,

• the security fence,

• the one that requires a gate code,

• the barbed wire fence (hmmm. That holds things in as well as out),

• the wrought iron fence

And, finally, maybe a little picket fence around my house designating the boundaries of my home.

Inside my home I’m sure there is at least one door I can lock that gives me at least a sense of safety.

In West Texas, especially Sonora where I grew up, if you were a friend and you came to visit, you went to the door that lead into the kitchen. Only strangers used the front door.

Well, nowadays, most of the time I live in the kitchen.

The kitchen door to the Hermitage is in the back yard, which was fenced for Molly’s safety. The way to my home, my sanctuary, is down a long wooded drive which leads you straight to my front door.

As I envision this, I see myself sitting on my front porch, waiting for you, my dear friend, to join me in the kitchen for a cup of tea and maybe some muffins. Or perhaps you’ll come for supper. Or, on those special days like Christmas, or Easter, or some other celebration, you’ll join me and lots of my friends and family for a feast.

Still, the truth is, there are some rooms that are just too private. If you don’t mind, I’ll keep the door closed on those while you visit.

But, for the most part, as they say in Texas, “The latch string is out.”

Ya’ll come, hear?

Epilogue

I’m reminded of a saying I heard once: You don’t have to share everything you know. You won’t burst.

And then, two of my favorite poems:

http://holyjoe.org/poetry/markham.htm

And

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44266/mending-wall

Hope you enjoy them.

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Till then…

Thanks for journeying with me.