fences

This past Labor Day weekend I helped my father build a fence. He wanted to screen out a stand of junipers that over the years have become bare and unsightly, and although he did the majority of the labor, I found that I also built a fence of my own.

Unlike my father's project, mine could not be seen nor was it entirely useful. I constructed a subliminal fence meant to conceal the suffering from a negative onslaught of self examination. Things that I would rather forget or those that are too painful to live with, my critical mind uncovered and I wished to hide them. In deference to a functioning sanity, my subconscious built a fence around this deep hurt of shame and guilt. A hopeful strategy inflicting a minimal hand blister from the screwdriver of humiliation, but which soon enough is forgotten. However, underneath festers a writhing discontent rendering eventual turmoil onto the unsuspecting visible side.

And so it was this weekend. My usually adequate defenses were torn down, and faults, large and small, overwhelmed my sense of safety. The radical question "Am I looking at myself clearly and honestly?" failed to arise and a ready gainsaying of the provocations appeared to be negligent. Fast I held the gates closed, and in an exasperated resolve, vowed to build a better barrier.

Yet these fences serve only to disassociate ourselves from the true beauty we so hope to see. I wanted to screen out the internal graceless negativity leaving only a secure haven. But my freedom is not found in a separation from the pain but through the wisdom of acceptance. We can't rid ourselves of the things we don't like, these things are what make up our reality. There is always the good, the bad, and the indifferent. The problem is in ourselves and how we relate to what we're confronted with. Our strength and freedom reside not in the protective self but in the uncomfortable confusion of what is.

And this may be the subliminal message that Jesus is attempting to get across in yesterday's gospel. Of course the Christ is alluding to reconciliation of a deviant member of the group, but in effect he may also be acknowledging that all - the acceptable and the unacceptable aspects of ourselves - are part of the One. The joy lies in tearing down the fences and welcoming the undivided soul, not just the parts we find favor with. When we become friends with our Self there is a profound wholeness because nothing has to change and no new fences need to be built.

love, always,

pia