When Boundaries Hold Us Free
by Laura Beth Buchleiter, MDiv
Two Playgrounds
There is an anecdote that has been spread around for many years now about two playgrounds. While it is often credited as “research from the American Society of Landscape Architects (ASLA),” I recently learned that it was the work of a college student, Peter Summerlin. For his efforts, the ASLA awarded Summerlin the Residential Design Award of Honor in 2006.[1] The project was simple: Ask a couple teachers to bring their classes to two specific playgrounds and watch what happens. Both playgrounds had similar attractions, and both were in safe places; the main difference was that one of them had a fence around the park. Summerlin noted that on the playground with no fence, “the children remained huddled around their teacher, fearful of leaving out of her sight.” In contrast, the space with a clear and distinct boundary “exhibited drastically different results, with the children feeling free to explore within the given boundaries.”
What started as a study of best landscaping practices also provided a now prolific metaphor for the purpose of exploring the value of personal and professional boundaries: While they may feel restrictive – certainly to ourselves if we have been living without them, definitely to others in our sphere if we have not asserted and held them – the ultimate result of healthy boundaries is long lasting freedom.
As clergy, boundaries give us much needed space to breathe, roam, and run as we freely engage our life and work in the church.
Space to Breathe
In my work in recovery communities, I often find myself repeating, “Oxygen is your friend!” It’s amazing how the first thing we often do when we are stressed or anxious is hold our breath. Stress changes our bodies, and we need that steady influx of fresh air to help navigate those changes. In short – we need to create space and intention to breathe!
Imagine yourself standing in the middle of your workspace – the office, the sanctuary, the choir loft, the narthex, the hospital, wherever you engage people in the course of doing what you do. Now close your eyes, take a deep breath and hold it for five seconds. Before you imagine letting go of that breath, add another five seconds for every time a different thought pops in your head. Add five more every time someone interrupts you, your well-planned schedule is disrupted, your finances are challenged, or a random, cringeworthy headline catches your eye. Add 15 seconds every time the validity of your ministry is challenged, a congregant or colleague calls with a major life crisis, or a family member’s health takes an unexpected turn for the worse. That’s a long time to go without breathing!
The space between imagination and reality is alarmingly thin. The more stressed we get, the less we breathe. While none of these things are necessarily within our realm of control, we do have the capacity to set aside appropriate time and space to reclaim our breath, to establish better, more consistent patterns of breathing.
We need breath to grow, to move, to heal, and to stay healthy. We need good boundaries to give ourselves the freedom to breathe.
Space to Roam
Have you ever walked through a wide-open space? A field or a desert with no roads and no fences where the only thing in your way were the periodic rock formations or small ravines and box canyons? Perhaps you’ve been at the helm of a boat out at sea, far from the sight of land? You follow the waves and the wind, but beyond that there is nothing telling you which way to go.
Both these scenarios are inspiring and empowering, right up to the point that they become terrifying. Unless you know the landscape like the back of your hand, simply following the sun to the east and west will get you only so far when navigating a desert. And unless you have mastered a sextant and can orient yourselves to the stars, you at least want some charts and maps (or a state-of-the-art GPS) aboard that boat with you.
We live and serve in rapidly changing landscapes. (How many times over the last decade have we longed for “charted territory” or “familiar waters”?) In many ways, neither modern culture nor recent history are of much help when it comes to finding our next steps forward. As a result, so many people have just stayed home – literally in their dwellings (if they have one) or metaphorically in their comfort zones.
Is it just me, or is there not much ministry that happens within our comfort zones? We work best when we are free to set sail, to get right up to the edges of relationships – the messy spots others are hesitant to reach. Boundaries empower us to walk closer to those relational cliffs while maintaining our own safety and well-being, as well as those in our care. Boundaries give us the space to roam!
Space to Run
Although I don’t understand the appeal of distance running, either as a participant or a spectator, I have deep respect for those who excel at it. The ability to condition the body, maintain a pace, and hold out for 13…26…or more miles is a mystery to me. While running may elude me, the idea of going the distance sits right in my wheelhouse as a pastor and spiritual director. The ability to condition our bodies and souls to stay on course and, as Paul said, “finish the race” is essential to our mission.
The alternative is burn-out.
The World Health Organization names burn-out as a “syndrome…resulting from chronic workplace stress that has not been successfully managed.”[2] They describe burnout using words like “depletion,” “exhaustion,” “mental distance,” and “cynicism.” As one might expect, the phenomenon of burn-out is reaching epidemic levels. Not only are clergy and other caring professionals susceptible to burn-out, but we have long been leading the way.
Our ability to manage our time and energy is critical. When well set, boundaries give us the space to run.
Conclusion
The first time I came across the story of the two playgrounds was in Cloud and Towsend’s book, “Boundaries.” The book, a gift from a pastor, became an integral part of a transformative time of my life. It was a time when I desperately needed to stretch my wings while feeling as safe as I possibly could in the process. It would have been easy to leave Summerhill's observations from the playground in the box of “landscape architecture.” Working inside his own boundaries, however, Henry Cloud brought them to his own playground with its own fence, and taught us something completely different from them.
All too often I hear people talking about boundaries as restrictions, as guardrails meant to keep us out of trouble or limit the liabilities of our employers, or as boxes holding us in. Boundaries are these things, but not just those things. The deeper truth of boundaries is that they help us know ourselves – our limits and abilities, our strength, range, and endurance - giving us the confidence we need to get out of the house, move away from our comfort zones, and keep ourselves in the race.
When learned well, clearly established, and asserted with love, grace, and compassion, boundaries have the power to hold us free.
