Fences Make Good Neighbors - Boundaries -

Robert Frost's poem, Mending Wall, has been a favorite of mine. I think most of us can quote a line or two from it or some of Frost's other pieces. In this piece Frost writes, "Fences make good neighbors. . . . Before I built a wall I'd ask to know what I was walling in or walling out." 

I've had my wall "Ah-ha" this summer. And I now know that building walls is not for my neighbors and keeping in or keeping out, but for me to recognize my boundaries; my self-imposed walls. 

Troublesome Thoughts - I've had to build walls around times I can worry. A concern comes into my mind, and I consciously say, "2 minutes; you have 2 minutes to entertain these thoughts, then put them away and move forward." The wall is the time-limit I've imposed. 

Anger - There have been a few times these past weeks where I've been really pissed (and I've written about them here). And I can't discount these emotions; if I do, they're stuffed down and sooner or later I'll have to deal with them. For me, handling my anger as it occurs allows me to look at it in the moment rather than past-tense, which then warps the real. So again, "Hold it up, exam it, feel it, and then let. it. go." Moving forward is key, and the fence is leaving the anger in the pasture while I get back on my path. 

Sadness - I am not happy with my faith community, yet I have no desire to leave my beliefs or look for another community. There have been hours of time where I have felt lost, friendless, sad. And there have been Sundays when that sorrow has lingered for the entire day, me not even realizing the origin. I'm not sure how I am going to deal with this as I move from one Sabbath to the next, yet knowing that I need to have a boundary is the motivation which keeps me uncomfortable. I haven't put a wall or fence in place, but I acknowledge it's time to build something - even if it's fluid, even if it has a gate. Acknowledging the need and desire for a wall is the first step in a boundary. 

Abandonment - At one point a few years ago I chose to let a few strangers through my fence gate. Now, nothing new - we all choose who we let in and who we keep out. And innocent until proven guilty as well. Yet after all of my grain was eaten by these folks, and they left, I realized I should have determined the boundaries rather than letting them tell me what my fences should be made of. Coming to the realization that this was my fault, not theirs, has caused me heartache, and caused me to want to shut down my walls and build a bigger fence. Knowing this, observing my hurt, and replanting and rebuilding is hard work, and necessary work. And it's okay to rebuild and be in charge of my boundaries. And it's fine to trust; walls can always be rebuilt. Rather tumbled down fence than a higher-wall. 

Privacy - This blog has been bold and blunt. And yet I'm a pretty private person. I don't like people knowing my business, and this summer I've learned that most of my walls are self-imposed. On the days I'm lonely it's because my "closed" sign is up. On the days I'm overwhelmed it's because I've left the gate open. Times when I'm stressed? Perhaps the visitor stayed too long; and times of joy - the contradiction in me says the gate was either open or closed! And I have the right to determine this. 

Protection - And today I do not begin teaching school! For the past 34 years I have lived my life from semester to semester - with children, with myself, and with me teaching, my life has revolved around the school year. And today, for the first time in forever, I am thinking about the walls this gave me - protection, boundaries, limits. There's been safety here - I knew what was expected of me. I knew when I could say yes, and I could say no, based on time limitations - days, hours, semesters - breaks. These boundaries have limited me and protected me. 

Today I say "adieu" to the semester fences. I have been deciding what I want to put in their place. I have not wanted my 4:30-8:30pm, Tuesday and Thursday time to be absorbed into the regularity of another day. I want to keep some boundaries in place, use this time wisely, perhaps take down the brick wall and build a glass wall in its place. I don't want the fence gone, just time for a new one in its place. 

And I'm the one who determines what my boundary/border/wall/fence will look like - and what it contains and what it excludes. And if I need a wall at all. And how I want that good neighbor to myself to appear. 

Mending Wall

BY ROBERT FROST

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,

That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,

And spills the upper boulders in the sun;

And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.

The work of hunters is another thing:

I have come after them and made repair

Where they have left not one stone on a stone,

But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,

To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,

No one has seen them made or heard them made,

But at spring mending-time we find them there.

I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;

And on a day we meet to walk the line

And set the wall between us once again.

We keep the wall between us as we go.

To each the boulders that have fallen to each.

And some are loaves and some so nearly balls

We have to use a spell to make them balance:

‘Stay where you are until our backs are turned!’

We wear our fingers rough with handling them.

Oh, just another kind of out-door game,

One on a side. It comes to little more:

There where it is we do not need the wall:

He is all pine and I am apple orchard.

My apple trees will never get across

And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.

He only says, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’

Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder

If I could put a notion in his head:

‘Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it

Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.

Before I built a wall I'd ask to know

What I was walling in or walling out,

And to whom I was like to give offense.

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,

That wants it down.’ I could say ‘Elves’ to him,

But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather

He said it for himself. I see him there

Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top

In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.

He moves in darkness as it seems to me,

Not of woods only and the shade of trees.

He will not go behind his father's saying,

And he likes having thought of it so well

He says again, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’