Boundary (noun) 1. A line or a limit where one thing ends, and another begins --Dictionary.com
“What are you looking at?!”
I was just finishing up supper last week with friends whom I’ve shared a weekly dinner table with for more than twenty years now. If it is a Monday night chances are good that we are breaking bread together. But this meal, this sacred and set apart meal I so appreciate? It was being disturbed by a lack of boundaries that evening.
Ok, by my lack of boundaries.
Back story. Last fall, in a fit of consumer envy, I bought myself a smartwatch, because everyone has one, right? In fact, I purchased a wicked “smaht” watch. Not some undereducated Fitbit, not for me anymore! My new watch tells me about so much than steps. It precisely measures my heart rate and my pulse ox (whatever that is), gives me a weather report, tracks my sleep, measures my stress even. You can’t have too much information phone wise—I think. Oh, and when I get a text message on my phone or a call, the watch then vibrates on my wrist.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZ. BZZZZZZZZZ.
Kind of like a Pavlov’s bell. The watch shakes. I immediately turn my wrist to look, push my sleeve up, and then read that oh so important text, confirming my haircut appointment for the next day. I react to that technological stimuli. And yes, I guess I do that even at the dinner table now.
Hence my friend’s legitimate protest, “What are you looking at?!” She rightfully wanted to continue our discussion about family and work, about the election and our friends, but me? Well, the “bell” went off. My brain got a jolt of adrenaline—WHAT’S THAT!!!! WHO IS THE VERY IMPORTANT PERSON TRYING TO GET IN CONTACT WITH ME? I AM SOOOOOOOOO NEEDED BY THE WORLD—MUST…READ…TEXT!
And so, I broke the precious boundary of our mealtime together, our connection, my paying attention to her, as a way of showing her, and saying, “I care about you.” And yes, “I care about you more than my next trivial or annoying or interruptive text message.” But that night the text trumped the friend. Not the first time I’ve done that. Not good. Not good at all.
I’m no Luddite. (Google it.) I mostly love technology. Enjoy it. Use it. Appreciate it. Yes, my new smart watch too. But what I don’t like about it is how so easily I allow it to break boundaries in my life. To break into my life when I should be fully “here” and fully “now,” and not being dragged away by some technological interruption. It’s sobering for me to recognize and confess just how often I do allow my phone to break boundaries.
At the dinner table. On a walk in the woods. In the car: how many times have I almost rear-ended someone to try and read a stupid text or notification? I’ve broken the boundary of looking at work emails or texts when I am at play and reading personal emails or texts when I should be working. I don’t think I’ve been as aware of this busting of boundaries as I should be. So, I am very grateful to my friend for calling me out for my rude behavior at the table.
One of the real gifts of practicing a faith tradition, is its requirement that you set boundaries, as a way to connect with God and take a breath and quiet the heart and soul. In faith we set boundaries between sabbath and work; boundaries between holy days and regular days; boundaries between the sacred and the secular. Go to worship at church, temple or mosque and you’ve set a boundary. This is my God time. Phone off. Tech ceased. For now, it is just me and my higher power. Set aside time for daily prayer or meditation and you’ve got a boundary. Listen to the deepest longings of your heart, listen for the invitation of transcendence, somethings beyond daily life…this cannot happen unless we are intentional about setting a boundary and honoring that boundary.
Faith teaches boundaries and when you start doing that for God, you can also start doing it in the rest of your life too. No phones at the dinner table or no phones in the bedroom. Maybe no TV in the bedroom. Or how about this? A weekend is a weekend—not time to let more work bleed over into what is supposed to be time off. Boundaries. This is my time to walk, to exercise, to paint, to birdwatch. To be disciplined, to experience such things, we have to set boundaries.
So, thank you my friend, for your truth telling, showing me that by reading some throwaway text and not being fully present to you, we’d lost the boundary of loved ones at the table. Just so you know: I got home later that night and stopped notifications for my watch. I guess it is now not so smart. Maybe I am a bit wiser.
Thank you, God, for life and for boundaries. Now friend, can you please pass the bread and butter? We’ve got a meal to share and lots to catch up on.
The Reverend John F. Hudson is Senior Pastor of the Pilgrim Church, United Church of Christ, in Sherborn, Massachusetts (pilgrimsherborn.org). He blogs at sherbornpastor.blogspot.com and is a resident scholar at the Collegeville Institute at Saint John’s University in Collegeville, Minnesota. For twenty-five years he was a columnist whose essays appeared in newspapers throughout Massachusetts and Rhode Island. He has served churches in New England since 1989. For comments, please be in touch: pastorjohn@pilgrimsherborn.org.
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