Boundaries

“To the window, to the wall.” -Lil John

OK. I know at first glance, Lil John lyrics may not match the tone of what I’m about to write. But play along for a moment. A boundary is a border; a divider. It marks the limits of an area. In the room I currently sitting in, the boundaries are set by a door, and, wait for it, windows and walls. See what I did there? Let the church say, “YEAAHHH!”

Anyway, I love physical boundaries. I don’t like a lot of people in my space. I know people complain about office cubicles but when I worked in an open space office, it was the worst. I get distracted, anxious, and, quite honestly, pissed off when bombarded with other people’s uninvited conversations, lunch smells, and noisy ass typing. In fact, I need some cubicles now. My son’s virtual schooling and my virtual working is trying my patience and testing my commitment to my family. I’ll let you decide if that’s an exaggeration.

It’s hard for me to concentrate on my own professional work with too much external chatter from others. Likewise, it’s hard for me to concentrate on journaling and writing poetry when there are too many household distractions. The aforementioned forced family togetherness is quite possibly limiting my creativity and productivity. Always blame the kids.

You know, now that I think about it, expecting my home to be an office setting is just not realistic. Always blame capitalism. Don’t get me wrong…I’m grateful for the opportunity to stay employed. And I appreciate the ability to complete monthly reports while wearing pajamas and my bonnet. But, the boundaries separating work and home life have been blurred, erased, and trampled upon. Expectations have increased. I’m now an office manager; ordering office supplies, unjamming printers, and finding space for a ridiculous amount of files. Back-to-back and concurrent meetings are held because we have the unhealthy assumption that what is possible with technology should be done. I’m expected to maintain HIPAA by holding sessions in a private space which often means working in my car. I’m expected to pay for electricity, printer ink, and internet service. And Xfinity stay trippin’. Even though I worked from home some before the pandemic, the boundaries between work and home were more clear. The way I closed out 2020 at my job was a whole mess. I am not taking that energy with me into 2021.

What will I do this year? I’m so glad you asked. Here are my boundary setting commitments to myself for the upcoming year (and lifetime).

Work Boundaries

I will not attend concurrent meetings. I’m ashamed that I even have to write that.
I will schedule appointments at least 30 minutes apart.
I will submit invoices for office supplies that I buy. We gotta tax these jobs like they tax us.

Family Boundaries

Seriously, tax these kids too. And, no, I’m not charging my yet-to-be employed teenager rent. But he will understand that all of the privileges he enjoys cost something. My labor, my time, my money. His investment in schoolwork, a clean bedroom, a respectful tone. And he will understand that I set the terms and my availability. And I’m not available today.
I will set clearer, more consistent limits on screens and music so I don’t have to fight through my son’s entertainment in order to concentrate on writing. Basically, my parenting skills are slippin’.
I will maintain clear emotional boundaries and not fall into codependent habits. I have to write a whole post on that.

Social Boundaries

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. You thought. COVID, introversion, and my resting bitch have made additional social boundaries unnecessary.

I hope you all join me and start or continue to set and maintain healthy boundaries. Let’s honor where we are and where our limits are. Let’s communicate them clearly. And, with all things, be gentle with yourself in the process.

Categories: : Wellness