You shall not pass, but this too, shall pass.

Sometimes boundaries are easy & obvious.  Fences are nice and “easy” boundaries. Sometimes boundaries are marked by their decorative shrubs:  “This is my side, please.”  And even though shrubs might look pretty polite, they can harbor some sharp points just beneath the surface.

To find out, all you have to do is violate that boundary, and then it’s oopsies. See, that’s your side- over there.

Sometimes they’re not so pretty or polite.

But regardless of the boundary, sometimes, boundaries don’t do what we intend them to do. We create boundaries that define ourselves. We say things like “I will never compromise such and such value” but then much quicker than we realize, we find ourselves eating humble pie in the closet, under a pile of blankets.

Those “lines in the sand” are in the sand for a reason. Because we never “never”, and never “always”. Because as soon as we say “never” or “always”, an opportunity will creep up and pounce and force our faces to the asphalt to either eat our words or lose our lives. We must eat that “I would never”, but keep that friendship, but send our sick child to school, but keep that $10 bill. And we shamefully choose to eat. The sand shifts, and suddenly our lines are erased.

I’ve always prided myself for the values that I uphold. I have falsely believed that I could uphold these values I hold dear, until the day I sold my soul. Because I have learned from fire-breathing dragons, that once these fences have all been burnt, there is no black and white, only grayness. And in these gray ashes, I’ve realized that these were a luxurious illusion.

But ashes feed the soil for new growth. And though this time everything may have been burnt, I can get up. I can use these ashes. I can lay claim to my sold soul, even if it be piece by piece, it will be mine again.  And maybe shifting boundaries keep us humble and compassionate, so that we can’t judge ourselves from others; because we’ve shared each other’s shoes, fears, and choices.

Maybe, “These too, Shall Pass” is meant for these things that burn us, but do not stay. Maybe these boundaries can keep us closer so that we can shelter each other and rebuild together from ashes. We eat our humble pie together, and silently understand that pain, and together, grow.