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Boundaries
Knowing Where We End
A cartographer once told me that the most difficult lines to draw were not those separating countries.
They were the lines that appeared obvious on paper but became complicated when someone actually stood on the ground.
A river could change its course.
A road could cross a border several times.
A village might have existed long before anyone decided which territory it belonged to.
“The line is useful,” she said, “but it doesn’t explain everything happening around it.”
I have often thought about that distinction when considering personal boundaries.
We speak about boundaries as though they were clear divisions.
What we accept.
What we refuse.
How much we give.
Where another person’s responsibilities end and our own begin.
But human relationships rarely arrange themselves into such convenient categories.
We care about people whose choices affect us.
We feel responsible for those who are struggling.
We want to remain generous without becoming exhausted.
