On Boundaries
Work/life lessons from a horse
He comes in warm and deliberate. Hooves crunch on snow, mane tangled, forelock blown over eyes.
A thousand pounds of Little Boy Energy puts me under a microscope.
Nibbling, poking, nit-picking.
Pressure.
Will you move first?
Will you move if I come in cute?
Will you move if I push with my nose? My lips? My bigger body?
Will you move if I nibble pants? How ‘bout jacket?
Boots?
Yes.
WhAt FuN!
How about at work?
Will you move if we blow off meetings you’ve scheduled?
Will you move if we exclude you from decisions?
How ‘bout if we undervalue you?
Cut your hours? Micromanage you?
Undermine.
You.
No?
Interesting.
She comes in curious. Snuffles, but doesn’t nibble.
Stands close, and doesn’t encroach.
Engages, and doesn’t push.
Gentle wondering:
What are you offering?
Inquiries made of another living Subject, not an object.
I am not a dead thing
under a microscope.
She stills completely in heart-space.
She offers nurturing without manipulation.
A line that is too often crossed.
