Yellow Lines
For most of my life, I have been a rule-follower.
This tidbit of self-knowledge can be confirmed by my parents, my teachers (particularly those through my middle and high school years who passed out perfect attendance certificates) and my friends and classmates (particularly those in college who wanted to collectively test the boundaries of our fake IDs). Further confirmation of my tendency to follow to the rules can be found in the details of the horoscope on the day I was born.
“…you plan, fix, build and make things work. You are orderly and methodical and base your life in logic. You value structure, discipline, health and are challenged by balancing your ambitions with your need for security.”
But they say rules are meant to be broken. Or at least for this Virgo — questioned and challenged first.
This brings me to yellow lines.
Like the yellow lines painted on the road, you ask?
Yes, like the yellow lines painted on the road.
What do the yellow stripes in the road have anything to do with following the rules?
Everything. Absolutely everything.
In short, the yellow stripes in the road — whether as the dividing line between directions of traffic or as the barrier to the edge of the roadway — set boundaries. Boundaries that dictate how traffic flows. Boundaries that separate vehicles from bicycles. Boundaries that (when coupled with rumble strips) set out to warn us before driving off the edge of a cliff.
Yellow lines on a roadway are painted by someone else. And we, as a community of drivers, cyclists and pedestrians more often than not, adhere to those boundaries. For those yellow lines generally create a safer experience for everyone on the road.
In many cases, however, I have observed that the yellow lines can be an artificial barrier for those who are predisposed to breaking the rules.
Let’s pause.
I am not advocating we should do away with the yellow lines on roadways. (I do hope my soon-to-be permitted 15-year-old son is reading this.)
I am, however, contemplating how we might challenge the yellow lines that have been drawn by others and therefore create artificial barriers in our lives.
Barriers that have been painted by someone else and as a result, dictate the way in which we approach relationships, parenting, work, our own self-care, mental health, ideological differences, taboo topics, our place in the world.
The list can go on and on.
I write a lot. And for those who follow me on other channels know that I tend to write about the impact of the latest federal policy announcement, or I interview someone who is making waves in their field.
But, if you ask me about the job I wish I had: I would tell you that I want to write.
I have a handful of friends (you know who you are…and this first post is dedicated to you) who have encouraged me for years to do just this.
Write.
Put my thoughts, observations, personal stories, sentiments, and reflections on paper (well, on screen).
So here I am.
Crossing over the yellow line of my own fear — an artificial boundary of what might happen if I share what is in my mind and on my heart. Perhaps the best thing that could happen is no one reads this. And perhaps the best thing that could happen is that someone does.
So unless there is some yellow line that impacts how I think about student loans, you won’t read anything about my day job here. You will get a glimpse into my heart and my head and read about all of the yellow lines that have been drawn by others — boundaries that I am dedicated to erasing, repositioning or challenging for myself.
