Lines are important. They provide boundaries and create structures.
Boundaries are healthy. Without boundaries: I might overstep, might overwork, might overshare.
Structures hold me up. With structures: I can thrive, I can rest, I can stand strong.
What’s kind of funny is that when people think of “lines” they think:
Level, straight, vertical, horizontal, diagonal.
But the thing is, that really limits the potential of lines.
That really limits the potential of success.
When we are little and try to color, we recognize that lines come in a variety of forms:
Curved, crooked, wavy, wonky, bold, broken.
All are valid in our eyes.
Yet as we grow, we increasingly look for the stability of a smooth line.
The small crevices of a looped curve are annoying.
The peaks and valleys of a zigzag are disruptive.
The crests and troughs of a wave are disorienting.
Since I was young, I liked lines. I respected their authority.
From elementary hallways, to choreographed spaces, to journal entries,
I was happy to follow the lead of the line.
I try to stay in line, on and offline.
I have boundaries. I have structure.
I stay the course, hoping to achieve my goals in a linear fashion.
But, lines can also be dangerous.
We use them to categorize that which we like against those we don’t,
Writing our choices horizontally on either side of a vertical line.
Division is the cross we choose to bear, yet we don’t do it very well.
When I learned that nothing is (or can be) perfectly flat, it really bothered me.
I wanted the security of the boundary of a wall and the structure of a floor.
But now, that fact of physics gives me comfort.
It gives me hope that though today is shaky, tomorrow might level out.
Regardless, both days are valid; both are full of the life I live.