What You Can Control

The Work That Is Theirs to Do by Joanna Fontaine Crawford

And said, “That’s enough of that.”

And the day came when finally they put down their burdens

The moment was full of sorrow but also relief

Arms exhausted from carrying the burden

Of trying to entice, persuade, people to be more

Compassionate, wise

They continued their own work of building a world more just

But were freer, lighter

The responsibility for others’ thoughts was gone

They taught through their actions

For anyone willing to read their lives

You can see them now at work in the daytime

Singing and laughing in the evenings

Ask for their views and they’ll give a mysterious smile

You can join them, you know, but you cannot fight them

For they just continue on their way

Doing the work that is theirs to do

They do not seek your agreement, your approbation

When they encounter an obstacle, they find a way over it

I have never seen people who worked so hard

Look so at peace.

Sermon: “What You Can Control”   

Like a lot of other people at the time, when I first saw the Christmas movie Love, Actually, just over 20 years ago, I thought it was incredibly sweet, even clever, and the kid was so adorable.  Have you seen this movie?

If you haven’t – basically, it portrays 10 different love stories that by the end you realize are all connected, and that love is all around, to quote the movie’s central song.

Even if you have seen Love, Actually – have you seen it recently?

Because what’s amazing is that watching Love, Actually now, 20 years after its premiere, it seems not at all sweet, or charming – and instead you realize, it’s pretty sexist, and fat-phobic, and those 10 stories are mostly examples of people with very bad boundaries.   

Boundaries, according to renowned therapist Nedra Glover Tawwab in her book, Set Boundaries, Find Peace – “are rules, expectations, needs, and desires that help you feel safe and comfortable in life and in your relationships.”

I also really like Prentiss Hemphill’s definition – that “boundaries are the distance at which I can love you, and me, at the same time.” 

Or, to give it a Unitarian Universalist flavor, we could also say – boundaries are the place where I can uphold your inherent worth, and my inherent worth – equally, and at the same time.

Tawwab describes six different types of boundaries –  

• Physical
• Sexual
• Intellectual
• Emotional
• Material
• Time

Tawwab says that the most common boundary struggle people have is in the emotional boundary realm – where we try to tell other people how they should feel, or what they should think, or when we take on other people’s feelings as our own.

This is where I want to return to Love, Actually, and specifically the character Sarah. Played by Laura Linney, Sarah is a middle-age white woman who has been secretly crushing on her co-worker Karl for more than two years – but she has never really acted on it or made herself available, as Sarah’s life instead revolves around caring for her brother, Michael, who is mentally ill. 

One night, at the staff holiday party, Karl asks Sarah to dance, and it’s clear the feelings are mutual. He ends up driving Sarah home, and then they start kissing…and it’s everything she’s hoped for – until she gets a call from her brother. She turns away from Karl, and gives all of her attention instead to the call, and the support Michael needs right then and there.

Karl goes home – and he and Sarah never end up getting together.

Sarah has taken on so much responsibility for her brother’s emotional and psychological state, there is no room for her own emotional needs. Even twenty years ago, it was clear that Sarah has an issue with emotional boundaries.

Which I think, was supposed to evoke sympathy – that she was stuck in this predicament – another sort of love story I suppose, and even admire Sarah for her self-sacrifice.

This was not, however, my reaction.  Instead, I remember thinking: why didn’t she just let that call go to voice mail? Why didn’t she find different supports for her brother? Does she not have enough self-worth to make space for her own needs, and to tell her brother no?

In other words, I was less sympathetic, more judgy.

As I said, a lot has changed in the last 20 years –  in the world, and in our individual lives. Two years after I first judged Sarah for her bad boundaries, my first child was born.  And obviously, I bring this up because there is absolutely nothing like parenthood to teach you about the difference between what you know in your head you should do, especially around things like boundaries, and what is actually possible to do in real life.

By which I mean to say, there’s a risk, in a twenty-ish minute sermon on the powerful practice of setting, and maintaining boundaries. A risk that we would all leave here just like my 28 year old pre-kid self – filled with judgment for anyone who can’t figure out how to maintain good boundaries, including – and probably especially ourselves.

When really, figuring out our boundaries is a complicated, life-long process, a constant negotiation. It’s why we should always talk about boundaries as a practice, not something anyone masters or achieves.  Most importantly, boundaries are always a systemic issue, not just a personal, individual one. After all – boundaries are only relevant when you are talking about being a person in the context of other people – so we can never think about boundaries as if they are only about a single individual who is good, or bad at them. 

We must always hold in our view, the systems and society that the individual is a part of, and whose “well-boundaried” life relies on whose so-called bad-boundaries in order to function. 

All this to say, watching Sarah’s story twenty years later, instead of judgy, I find myself instead feeling angry. Angry at the lack of social systems to better support people who are mentally ill or otherwise cognitively impaired. And at the way so many people –most often, but not always, women – end up sacrificing themselves trying to fill this gap, only to be told they have “bad boundaries.”

And, I get angry for the ways that we are taught that this is what compassion really means. That compassion means setting aside our own needs and feelings, and orienting instead towards the needs of our loved ones.

I feel angry for all of us, and for the sacrifices we’ve had to make – and I feel angry, and sad – for the times I know I too have felt I had no other choice than to set aside my needs to care for others, including, as my change in perspective indicates, my children.

To be clear, I love my kids so much.

And, there have been many times, especially when they were younger, that it felt like they had a black hole of need that would just suck me up, if I let it. It is obviously their job to have needs, and it is my job to not let those needs suck me up, and instead to know where my limits are, to communicate those limits, and then to help them gain the skills to tolerate the discomfort of my no.

Or, let’s be honest, I needed to grow my own capacity to tolerate and not rescue them from their discomfort.

That we have succeeded in this work even occasionally feels now like a huge accomplishment.

No part of this process of setting boundaries is easy, after all – it requires discipline, and intention – first to discern the boundary in the first place – and then to communicate it, and then to uphold the thing you communicated through actual action. 

These are the three parts of setting boundaries –

• Discern what you need
• Communicate what you need
• Uphold what you communicated with your behavior

The first part – discerning what you need – often happens because a need you aren’t fully aware of isn’t getting fulfilled.  You find yourself feeling overwhelmed, or resentful; or maybe burned out and like you don’t have any time for yourself.

Having these sorts of feelings are a good sign that you have a need that isn’t being fulfilled.

Sometimes this need is obvious – you need your friend to stop treating you like their therapist; or you need your spouse to take a more active role in household chores; or you need to stop answering emails on your days off.   

Sometimes needs are more obscure, or more ambiguous. Like Sarah, it can be hard to know exactly what your choices are, and what limits you have that are your bottom lines, especially when resources feel scarce. 

Finding a listening partner – a therapist, or a willing friend – especially someone who has been in a similar situation, or turning to a journal – can help you sort through your needs, and your limits, and then hopefully, turn these needs into speech.

This is the second part of boundary setting – to literally communicate your needs. Despite what we may hope or believe – people cannot accurately assume your boundaries based on your “body language or unspoken expectations,” and be assumed as a matter of “common sense.” When it comes to boundaries, subtlety is not your friend.

Be clear, explicit, and direct – saying things like:

“When we have a disagreement, I’d like you to use a lower tone and take a break if you are getting too heated.” Or, “If you need to change our plans, send me a text at least a few hours before.” Or, “I’m more of a handshaker; I don’t want to hug.” (these are just a few of the examples Tawwab’s awesome book provides)

Explicit, clear, and direct.  Not subtle.   

Then, the final step – also not easy – is to “uphold what you communicate through your behavior.” i.e. when the “boundary is violated, you need to reinforce it with action.”

For example, someone I was close to used to call me after they had been drinking – and it made me very uncomfortable. Finally I got up the courage to say explicitly, clearly, and directly – please don’t call me after you’ve been drinking. They agreed. But not too long after, they did it again.

So I had to say – explicitly, clearly, and directly: you’ve been drinking, which means I can’t talk to you now, and then I hung up.

It was more than just uncomfortable, it was painful.  But over time, it got easier. New habits grew, and our relationship improved. We might want to believe that once we’ve communicated our boundaries, most people will follow our requests. But – as you may have noticed – it’s more likely that it will take a few times of reinforcement, as even the most well-intentioned among us have a hard time shifting the grooves of our relationships.  

Expecting up front that people will likely respond to your requests with pushback or limit testing, defensiveness or questioning can help normalize and de-personalize these reactions – and help us stay grounded in our response. 

It also helps to remember this when we are on the receiving end of someone else’s boundary clarification – to recognize that it is normal to feel anxious, defensive or resistant.  Which means, we can and should be compassionate with ourselves rather than getting caught up – once again, in self-judgment. 

We can simply notice whatever feelings come up, and then to try to find a calm place of curiosity to respond from – remembering that someone communicating a boundary to us is in most cases a sign they want the relationship to continue, and for trust to deepen. 

Finding that place of calm and curiosity as we negotiate our respective needs is a process that UU minister and family systems coach Jake Morrill describes as the three puzzle pieces of self-differentiation.

• 1. Take a stand
• 2. Keep in touch
• 3. Keep cool

Self-differentiation is simply the family systems word for practicing boundaries while in relationship other people who are also practicing boundaries. 

The first puzzle piece of self-differentation, Jake says, is to take a stand – this is the clarifying of your own needs and goals – your boundaries. Say what you will and won’t do.

The second is when we connect in with others, and stay aware of their goals and their boundaries. We practice curiosity and consider perspectives different from our own. 

And finally, we keep cool.

This is where you take a stand and keep in touch at the same time – holding your own boundaries, while also taking in another’s – while also regulating the inevitable anxiety that arises in this combination. It is the practice of pausing, noticing what is coming up, taking some regulating breaths, and then returning to curiosity before responding.

The practice of self-differentiation seems to me one of the most tangible expressions of Unitarian Universalism – where we are actively affirming the worth and dignity of both ourselves, and another, and finding ways to honor both our own, and their piece of the truth. It is one practical and transformational way to live out our covenant in our lives.    

It is also where having a regular spiritual practice really pays off – because this is advanced level self-regulation.

Sometimes I have tried to imagine a totally re-written Love, Actually, updated to reflect a healthier practice of love all around us, a love infused with healthy boundaries and self-differentiation.

In the re-imagined story for Sarah, I can see her being more honest with Karl about what was going on with her brother, and setting some clearer expectations for what a big shift she would be trying to make in her life.  

She could then speak with the facility where her brother is living to establish clear hours where she would, and would not be available, and they could brainstorm ways to support him in her off-hours; of course, she could communicate these same boundaries to her brother.

Each of these steps would make more space for love to show up in her own life – and for Michael to establish new connections with different people too – to grow love in his life, too. 

So often when we think about our lives, and the life we long for – collectively, and individually, we tend to focus on how other people need to change – people from other political parties, or from other states; people with more power, or the people we live with, or next to, our kids, our parents, our friends  – but this focus means we neglect the thing we have the most control over, which is ourselves.

When we practice authentically discerning and communicating our own needs, and limits, while also remaining in connection and partnership with other people and their needs and limits – and tap into that place of curiosity, and calm through it all – this practice has the potential to shift our lives, and our relationships dramatically.   

In this presidential election year – with all of the challenges we know we face, let us – as Joanna Fontain Crawford writes, “set down the burden of trying to entice or persuade people to be more compassionate, or wise, and instead focus on building a world more just, singing and laughing as we go, teaching through our actions, and doing the work that is ours to do.”

And may love – well-boundaried and fully differentiated – guide us through it all.