NO BOUNDARIES, NO CLUE

See that kite? Flying free and easy through the clouds, pushed this way and that by random puffs of wind. That’s me. Upon deep examination of my convoluted and tortured path in life, I’ve realized I have no boundaries and no clue where I’m going or what I’m doing.

I’m okay with that — sometimes.

I’m okay with that because boundaries and plans are hard. I don’t like difficult. Confrontations frighten me and planning is tough when your life is ordered by random puffs of wind, tethered to reality by only a thin filament.

Certainly, those who know me well would be surprised that I hate planning and my relationship with solid ground is iffy. My children grew up seeing me as the homeschool mom who spent summers researching, hand copying from library books, and laying out curriculums for them both, which we stuck to meticulously until about March of the school year, when I gave up, gave in, and admitted defeat.

“Here, take your worksheets and don’t bother me until they’re done. I’m having a nervous breakdown.”

The worksheets, a product of my highly productive summer of research and curriculum planning always saved us. Each year the kids passed the state testing with flying colors and our homeschooling trial continued.

Don’t ask me how I did it for 12 years without becoming a raging alcoholic…oh, wait, we were Baptists, so that was out of the question. I quietly succumbed to anxiety and ulcers.

The invisible strand that hooked me to the homeschooling notion was a suggestion made by my husband. I wasn’t keen on doing it. But, there was this little puff of random wind…and, suddenly we were a homeschooling family.

My Sunday school students and Youth Group kids would be amazed that I was always flying by the seat of my pants. Lessons I prepared for them would begin with an interesting character from the Bible and a paraphrased story about said character with matching arts and crafts. Sometimes I would have the lessons ready to go days before presenting them. But, still, it always felt as though I was making it up as I went along.

I suppose I wasn’t really. But being in the moment always felt a bit out of my reach. Blink and the moment was over.

Boundaries? What are they? You mean I have to tell people to stop making me sad, annoyed, angry, or homicidal? I didn’t know that was a thing. Someone should have told me.

People who often use humor to deflect are generally boundary-less. I hate the way you’re talking to me. I will make a joke to cut you to the quick. You will be destroyed and I won’t have to tell you to stop being mean to me.

Do this often enough and people will avoid you and you won’t have to worry about making boundaries.

Problem solved.

You see, I can’t set boundaries with other people because I can’t set boundaries with myself. That might be a good place to begin if I only knew how. Unfortunately, I am in the last stage of my life, a time when I am not willing to deny myself instant gratification. Today may be my last day. Who knows? If I don’t finish this entire bottle of wine, it might go to waste. If I don’t buy these shoes today, what will I be buried in? Well, obviously a box. But what will I be wearing on my feet?

When you hit 70, your outlook on life changes. Boundaries are probably for the young folk. Now, all they will do for me and those around me is cause confusion and pain. See? Dilemma solved. I’m too old to live a mentally healthy life.