Time, Tape, and the Lines Between This & That
On 2022
“Is it really new?” asked rabbit.
“That, my friend,” replied bear, “is entirely up to you, isn’t it?”
Thoughts while making
Growing up, my older brother’s bedroom was *always* messy.
I, on the other hand, have always liked things in their place.
So, when my younger brother was born and Steve and I we were forced to share a room, I knew there was going to be problems. And I was right: his junk was everywhere.
But I quickly found a solution. Laying down a stripe of off-white masking tape from floor to ceiling, I neatly separated the room into two halves.
“You can do anything you want,” I told Steve, “as long as your stuff is on that side, and mine is on this.”
I remember being quite proud of myself. At nine years old, defining boundaries was no small thing.
So you can imagine how deflated I was when Steve’s stuff – and a lot of it – began crossing the line.
“This is the line,” I re-explained. “And your stuff cannot cross it.” But it did, again and again.
As a result, I was faced with a challenge: continue angrily hucking Steve’s stuff back to his side, reacting to his actions as I defended my line, or seek new ways of seeing what actually was and what *I* genuinely wanted, realigning my boundaries accordingly.
A “new” year is a lot like that tape, isn’t it? An arbitrary time stripe laid down with the function of separating this from that, an imaginary boundary between what was and what could be.
The thing is: No matter what we do, 2021 stuff is going to cross the 2022 line—especially in these times.
The question is: Will you continue to huck that stuff back across your line, reacting to what’s on the other side, or will you seek new ways of seeing what actually is important to YOU and align your boundaries, your priorities, your life accordingly?
What is one thing you can let sit on your side of the line without reactivity?