Boundaries
To live well calls us to recognize and respect boundaries, and properly navigate those arenas where territories overlap.
After firing too many personal questions at me, the hospital’s admitting rep asked, “Do you have an Advanced Medical Directive?” When I nodded my affirmation, she barked, “We’re gonna need that.”
I love medical science and personnel. But throughout the medical processes of that day, I felt like I was in an auto body shop; people who did not know or care about me banged, slammed, jerked, and hammered my heart into compliance with their needs and preferences.
Since that day, I’ve watched our cultural ethos inch ever closer to if we see it and need it, we can take it. That is especially true of institutionalized, undocumented, homeless, and other marginalized people. Too many live in the social condition described by an ancient proverb, “The poor man utters supplications, but the rich man answers roughly.”[1]
Every day, health organizations and people handle the very private wellsprings of human health. But they rarely show the restraint or respect matching their role.
How can they not know that the landscape of health, wealth, mortality, property, income, and identity is very intimate real estate? If I—regardless of my authority or job description—were to ask someone for his or her salary, social security number, credit score, urine sample, or advanced directive, I’d do so very carefully, respectfully and apologetically.
The real problem is our fondness for a self-centered life. And I think a primary evidence of that selfish bend is our failure to recognize and respect boundaries, and properly navigate those arenas where territories overlap. For example, infidelity is far more than a sensual search; it’s also a rejection of boundary lines. How many people on a sexual quest pause to consider the other person’s health, character, reputation, income, family, or future?
Laws exist primarily because of human decadence; they restrain the rush of selfishness. We should all pray that the rampant and increasing lawlessness in our society does not become a hurricane of social chaos. And we should all do what we can to restore the fences that protect people, property, ideas, and traditions.
How can we cultivate that kind of vigilance? Nearly every religion on earth proclaims a version of The Golden Rule, usually rendered along the lines of “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” It is the most perfect law ever conceived.
So, what if we all just started ...
· Doing to others what we would like done to us?
· Living a slower, kinder, and more thoughtful life?
· Asking ourselves in every situation, “How would I want to be treated right here, right now?”
· Teaching our children to, first, see and then respect boundary lines?
· Waiting to be invited across a boundary rather than invading it?
This issue cuts to the heart of why we started The Timberline Letter. We wanted to encourage people to live and work at the higher altitudes. We can do that by viewing boundaries as a Venn diagram. Some places are exclusively yours. But inevitably, you will be required to share a road, a stadium, a home, or personal information. In those shared spaces, can we acknowledge that we can share other dimensions of life with them?
The Timberline Letter is not apolitical or secular. But others already work those streets. We’re not trying to sell anything, raise funds, or elect anyone. Like trees and cathedrals, we simply point up. We encourage people to “slip the surly bonds of earth” and ride the wind currents on up to where the eagles soar.
[1] Proverbs 18:23 taken from the New American Standard Bible® (NASB), Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation Used by permission. www.Lockman.org
Right on Ed. Thanks.