Behind the lines

Lines. There are lines that divide us all the time. Some lines are invisible, some open. Lines can be useful and sometimes these lines fence us in. They separate us from other people, they categorise us; they shape us. They create boundaries. Boundaries that we are comfortable in, boundaries that don’t allow us to cross other lines, boundaries that becomes barriers and keep us from discovering ourselves.

So how good are these lines really? They function as an invisible entity that keeps us from becoming one of them, which may be a good thing or not. So when do we know which is what? Often, lines come in place when realisation dawns that things may have gone out of hand. It could a diatribe on religion, ethics that alienated and offended people, an extra drink that ended in embarrassing situations, a plain uncoated truth that shattered relations, hope and trust, an incident whose scars are hidden yet very much alive. Anything.

So what happens to lines that are drawn out of upbringing, prejudice, or fear? Are these lines more dangerous and damaging? Can these lines be erased? It takes a lot of courage to admit others in. To put down the lines that expose you. You may be rejected, you may be ridiculed but at least you have the satisfaction that it was not on account of not trying. And it could be that the incident may teach you something new. You may draw new lines again, but they may not be as impenetrable as before. These lines are the ones that leave an end open. Open to welcome new suggestions, people and incidents.