Good Fences…
This article was first published in the Minden Times in February 2025.
We’re supersensitive to the idea of boundaries right now, with the Orange Dicktator doubling down on the idea of Canada being the 51st state. The undefended border along the 49th parallel is becoming defended, in theory to keep the Orange Dicktator happy (fat chance!) but with the overdue aim of keeping guns out and renewed concern about a rush of incomers as the Orange Dicktator ruthlessly cleans house.
Boundaries are a good thing: Good fences make good neighbours.
Boundaries also help us figure out who we are and who we aren’t, both as a country and as a person. Deciding where the inside stops and the outside begins. And how close or how distant to keep the other. Gibran, speaking of marriage: ‘Let there be spaces in your togetherness. And let the winds of heaven dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love.’
He captures the contradiction of caring, managing the tension of too close and too distant, keeping it clear where you end and the other begins. This is a constant frisson in the business of caring – we know what we want for those we care about, but we have to respect that we can’t make people do what we want them to do. To revisit my (borrowed from Senator Landon Pearson) refrain: we can only create the conditions under which they make different choices.
The business of boundaries seems to be experiencing some special difficulties at present. The Orange Dicktator is throwing all the old toys out of the sand box as he claims it for himself, whether or not he has the right to do so. He assured us little women that he is going to protect us whether we want it or not, which sounds a bit like the bonds of love that Gibran referenced, and a bit like how Bluebeard took care of his wives. Doug Ford is campaigning on negotiating international trade, which is above his pay grade and not in his job description; his competition reminds him – and us voters - that he has failed quite spectacularly to take care of the business that is his job – health care, education, infrastructure, housing. There seems a temporary reprieve in the chronic argument between the provincial and federal governments about who is responsible for what – by which is meant primarily who is paying for what -- while being litigious about where the constitution sets the boundaries.
The Stoic philosophers – long ago; obviously this is not a new conundrum – conceptualized the question of whose job is what in three concentric circles. The smallest is what you can control, the second is what you can influence, the third is what you cannot control, although it is of concern. The best chance for a happy life, they said, was to focus on the inner two circles, what you can control and what you can influence.
These boundaries, particularly the one between control and influence, are vexing to define and protect because they are in constant flux. They don’t stay put. The work of figuring it out is never finished. The conclusions are never for sure. Certainty – which we love – is in short supply. Welcome to life, where the only certainty is death.
So how can we get our feet under us in a world where boundaries are in constant change? When I was hanging out with youth who were working on finding themselves -- who they were, what they wanted, what they could do, what was beyond them – I capitalized on an enthusiasm for chess to develop what I called the one-square theory. Basically it said – figure out what piece you are, which determines how you move, identify what square you’re on, and make a plan to get, move by move, to where you want to go. Which is a pretty good metaphor for life, recognizing that not all pieces are made alike and the game is won by each piece playing its part – queens acting like queens and pawns like pawns. For those youth, seeing their community as the chess board on which their life game was being played offered solidity and focus. Maybe there’s something there for us as well.
As we slide into increasingly confusing, chaotic, and almost certainly challenging times, we need strategies for using our energy effectively. For managing well enough when the world bears down on us. The ancient world, where people had much less control over many fewer things, has something to teach us. Control what you can control, influence what you can’t control, embrace the challenge of discerning the difference. Don’t fuss about what’s out of your control.
That’s called resilience. It’s a good time to give it a try.
