Barbs and Scars

A few months ago I was walking the fence line, the one that separates the main pasture from the horse-intolerant neighbor’s property, checking for structural issues that may turn problematic during the winter months.  Despite a few leaning posts the wooden fence was secure and could wait until warmer, drier weather for maintenance.  During my inspection, I noticed a scarred maple tree growing behind the fence.  Its deformity was the result of an old barbed wire fence; one that was put up decades before my arrival on the property.  I can only imagine that once upon a time a young maple grew and an old farmer decided to use it and other young trees growing along the property border as posts for a cheap and effective method of confining cattle.  The rusted wire is now part of the tree and upon further inspection, it is also part of the other trees growing along the property line.  The wire did not expand as the trees grew and now their trunks are permanently marred by the rusted hooks.  I was so taken by the amalgamation of wood and rust that my need to photograph it was felt on a visceral level.  I knew that someday that image would inspire a wondering in me that I would have to explore.  So here I sit, the haunting vision of a disfigured trunk in my mind, contemplating how certain boundaries do more harm than good.

This matter comes to mind because some recent familial issues have me thinking about the difference between healthy boundaries and detrimental isolation.  You see, I had to learn that it is perfectly fine for me to set limits on what others expect of me and what I am willing to do.  That has made all the difference.  But the more I’m learning about delineating other people’s problems from my own the more I’m realizing that some people have never developed the skills to manage emotions.  It’s as if they live life in complete contrast to how I live mine.  I’m here trying not to be a slave to my empathy and they are over there seemingly not giving a F***.  But I honestly believe that this attitude is just their defense mechanism.  This pondering brought me back to July’s post Boundaries and I stand by what I said, “It is now my belief that just as good fences make good neighbors better boundaries make better relationships.”  

In that post, I describe the various types of fencing I use to contain livestock and protect my gardens.  I also envision my mind as a beautiful cottage garden and describe how I would protect the gentle blooms of my mental well-being. One thing about my boundaries (physical and otherwise) is the presence of gates.  I can choose to allow areas to be open to others or keep them closed.  But the barbed wire is nothing like a post and rail or picket fence.  It is ugly nasty stuff and its sole purpose is to keep animals and people from passing.  Barbed wire tamed the West and also destroyed lives (I’ll allow you to read more on that when you’re ready). Any being not small enough to slip under the fence will most likely suffer some sort of injury.  I remember an incident involving a pony of mine getting out of her pasture and wandering into neighboring land with old barbed wire fencing.  She got tangled up and was nearly crippled by the damage done to her legs.  That being told I believe that some people set boundaries that are much like barbed wire.  Sometimes they are so rigid and so sharp that these people end up alienating themselves from people who truly care about them.  Then in the end, much like the trees and the ensnared animals, they are left with a painful mess of unhealthy growth and gruesome scars.

I know I may be extreme in my thinking but the more I pay attention to others the more I see the damage caused by the invisible barbed wire with which they protect themselves.  It could be something as simple as never asking for or accepting help.  We all know someone or have been that someone who swears they can do everything for and by themselves.  I was the type to rarely ask for help. My identity was wrapped up in being the one who helps and the person people come to when they have a problem.  How would I be perceived if I started asking for help?  Who would I be if I wasn’t the one taking care of everything?  Well, I learned two valuable lessons when I started asking for and accepting help.  I learned that it’s okay to be vulnerable and that showing vulnerability brings you closer to others.  Also, it can be selfish to deny someone the chance to help you because some people derive pleasure from helping others.  Now, this example may not be a cause for concern.  But if you take this idea of being independent to the extreme it can have long-lasting and damaging results.  When someone chooses to not rely on the support of others (or is afraid to ask) they do so at the detriment of their welfare.  It can be a lonely and sad existence when life’s problems get too big to be handled alone.  These people find themselves without the necessary resources and assistance.  They become an island through their isolating behavior and as a result, a manageable problem may become negatively life-altering or life-ending.

Sometimes people don’t necessarily mean to isolate themselves but become closed off by their actions.  These people put their metaphorical barbed wire up without realizing how it may affect those around them. They are much like the farmer who attaches barbed wire to the trees out of convenience and efficiency.  He isn’t thinking to himself that his actions will cause a problem in the future.  He is not thinking that the young trees will grow and push against that wire and that it won’t give but will become part of the tree.  He is not thinking that trees may grow deformed and won’t thrive.  The farmer doesn’t consider the harm that might be inflicted upon a curious animal.  No, he is thinking, “I have to keep my cows in and predators out.  I am doing this the easiest and fastest way I know how.”  He is thinking of his needs.  If you sit with this thought long enough I’m sure you will recognize a person in your life that is much like the farmer but instead of trying to confine cows they are probably trying to control their thoughts and emotions.  Unfortunately, the best way to keep these unwanted feelings at bay is to numb them away with any agent of choice – drugs, food, alcohol, sleep, sex, shopping, self-harm, mindless distraction, even anger, or some combination (some of these choices may be normal and even healthy in small doses).  But regardless of how innocuous or radical a behavior may be, if left unchecked all of them can have extremely negative impacts on not just the individual’s life but the lives of those who love them.

Now don’t get perturbed I am by no means trying to be an expert in psychology or human behavior.  I am simply a concerned person thinking about the people I love.  I don’t need to be an authority on the workings of the mind to observe pain and avoidance around me.  You see it too.  We all have that one friend who shops till she drops instead of confronting her unhappy marriage.  We all know that one guy who needs to drink until she forgets all his past mistakes.   We’ve all had a friend who soothes heartache with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.  My son will happily zone out in front of a Play Station when he’s had a tough day at school. How about the wine o’ clock moms that can’t seem to get through the day without taking the edge off?  I love to sleep and mindless distractions when I’m feeling sad (much of 2019 is a blur).  My Mom would craft and sew until the wee hours of the morning.  My Dad would blow up at something as simple as a messy birdcage.  Both of them (unbeknownst to my young self) were dealing with the stress and heartache of parenthood.  Every one of us engages in a distraction from time to time but I have seen too many people using diversions as a way to continue avoiding the bigger issues of feeling fear, disappointment, loneliness, regret, loss, insecurity, and scarcity.  We are programmed to think that we should avoid discomfort.  But being human especially an adult human, means we have to feel pain from time to time.  We all experience heartache.  We all lose someone we love.  We all feel unfulfilled.  We all have periods of uncertainty. But how we choose to face these experiences is what determines just how many of those barbs stay stuck in us.

It is this impact that has me concerned especially as a parent.   All the distractions that I mentioned, if left unchecked, can lead to problems for not just the person but their whole family.  That adage “too much of a good thing” certainly does apply.  It makes sense, doesn’t it?  Too much retail therapy can lead to debt and consequently more stress.  Too much emotional eating can lead to obesity and consequently affects self-esteem and/or health.  Drinking to forget can lead to apathy and alienation of loved ones.  Expressing anger when you feel sorrow only pushes away the people who want nothing more than to comfort you.  Constant use of distractions like TV to avoid experiencing grief won’t make it go away but only buries the pain and delays true acceptance and healing.   Escaping sorrow through habitual drug use may numb the emotional pain but will almost certainly destroy the other aspects of your life (finances, employment, friendship, family, and health).  Do you see what I mean? By trying to keep out the normal albeit uncomfortable parts of life we ultimately bring more suffering onto ourselves as well as our family, friends, and community.  It is as though the barbed wire we use to protect ourselves ultimately ensnares and slashes those around us.  By not accepting and working through our hurt we in turn hurt others.  As a parent, I’d hate to think that my method of coping is damaging to my children in any way.

Normally my wondering leads me to a happy place. However, today’s pondering leaves me feeling sad.  I have an image in my head of a tree at the corner of the field.  The barbed wire is wrapped around and secured to it.  The wire then stretches along the property line and is tacked to the other trees.  The first tree may see the most damage while the others will not experience it until they grow some more. The cattle, their hides showing patches of missing hair and purple stains from Blu-Kote, amble about the pasture.  The farmer is content.  Over time the fence will rust and be littered with hair and flesh and blood from the unsuspecting animals that get too close or try to pass.  Possibly a young calf will get caught in the wire and die.  The farmer sees the loss as inevitable and merely the price one pays for keeping his property protected.  He is set in his ways and not receptive to alternatives or advice.

So I end this contemplation recognizing that even I cannot put a positive spin on barbed wire.  No, this is one deliberation that cannot yield a positive outcome for I cannot change the pain I observe other people feeling or inflicting.  I can only be a bystander, close enough to offer my help, but far enough removed to not get tangled in the mess.  All I am capable of being is openhearted and consoling if ever the barbed wire comes down.  And then, just as I do for the trees, I will aid in snipping away the twisted and knotted bonds that prevented healthy growth.