by Irene Daniel
I've been drawing a lot of lines in the sand lately. I don't revel in adversarial combat like I used to anymore. But one of the many reasons I no longer practice law. There does come a time, however, when only a firm stance and/or combat will do. Looking back, I really had to get mad before I could draw those lines.
Even though I feel myself coming back around from the dark side of a very dark moon, I am grateful for the rage that enabled me to respect my own boundaries -- physical, emotional, professional and Spiritual. Swimming in darkness and rage for awhile created a unique survivor. My rage told me that I had been violated; and not just violated, but violated in ways and places that I had chosen to make myself vulnerable to someone because I loved them too much to believe that they could possibly hurt me. Ever. Those who professed to so love me.
As I nurse my little baby Phoenix, forming out of the ashes of the rage that completely burned itself out, I have many choices to make. I could choose to see myself as a total victim of the cruelty and dishonesty of others. In so doing, I tell myself that I bear no responsibility for the problems upon problems I am coping with today. But that will never do; not if I want my new Phoenix to truly soar. And if I don't want to soar, why bother?
As long as I am alive, it's soaring or nothing. I must leave the ashes behind. Who can soar choking on the ashes of a dead rage? And if I am to leave this darkness behind, I must have clarity. This clarity can only be true if I am able to see my choices, as well as my own reflection, in the words and deeds of those who hurt me so badly.
The truth is that I didn't love myself enough to trust my instincts. I didn't love myself enough to take better care of myself and my affairs. I didn't love myself to even know where those boundaries were, much less honor them myself. I didn't love myself enough to confront someone because there was always some boat that I didn't want to rock. And so, I must forgive myself for the inability to respond to my own needs.
Moreover, I have to be honest with myself and be able to see how my inadequacies and insecurities are reflected in those who have harmed me. Where have I been cruel? Where have I been dishonest and insincere in order to get something that I wanted? This is not to suggest that I deserved to be punched, ripped-off or betrayed; only that I must recognize that we are all fallible human beings. Nor am I suggesting that we shouldn't hold others accountable just because we make mistakes too. For in holding others accountable, we hold ourselves accountable too -- to ourselves as well as others.
And so, this brings me face to face with my new reality. How to protect my new Phoenix without choking it off with anger, or building walls so high and thick that it prohibits soaring? Or makes it more difficult to reach a vantage point high enough to see beyond them? That is what I ponder today.
I've built walls around myself for most of my life. Few could penetrate them for any considerable time, nor to any palpable depth. I've let them down at times and usually felt let down in return. I didn't realize at the time that building walls and letting them down is not the same thing as having boundaries. My walls disabled me from learning how to create, understand, respect or need boundaries. It's taken several decades for me to understand that they are not the same thing. I used to think that boundaries were the outlines of walls; but now that image seems so small to me. It does not inspire soaring.
At this stage of the game, it appears that boundaries are the foundation, not for walls, but for personal accountability. For as I hold others accountable to me for the harm they have caused, I find myself less willing to excuse my own bad choices, less likely to give myself a pass when I let others down; as we all invariably do.
My new Phoenix will test limits, I'm sure. Sometimes we only learn where the boundary is when it has been crossed. At other times, we must stretch beyond our boundaries to discover magical things about ourselves. For, unlike walls, boundaries cannot be set in stone. They must be as alive and capable of growth as any other living thing. Having, honoring and maintaining boundaries is not an exact science. It is an art form, as unique as every one of us. It is the artist of her own humanity who creates those boundaries; and understands that boundaries mean nothing if you are not willing to draw a line in the sand when that is exactly what is called for in that instance.
Not quite ready for prime-time yet, but my new Phoenix will soon take flight.
Watch this space.
Copyright 2015, Irene Daniel, All Rights Reserved.
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