Imaginary Boundaries

This world is weird. Captain Obvious, here, nice to meet you.

Anyway, I was pondering this the other day when I was sitting in a spot in the sun, on the steps of a building near where I work.

Someone in the building seemed to have an issue with this and tried a power-trip to get me to leave. I did, but he wanted me to ask his permission to sit there, even though he did not own the building  and all I was doing was sitting on the steps quietly eating my lunch.

This led me to be really aggravated and wonder why people think that they “own” space. I don’t mean property, I mean SPACE.

How nice would it be if we could just enjoy the world without lame restrictions – who am I harming by sitting in the sun’s rays?

I am also baffled by how human beings are treated if they try to adhere to a more natural lifestyle, including with their own children. I have heard many a story of people who’ve had their children taken away by feeding them a vegan diet (let alone a raw one!). Many have been held circumspect for wanting an unassisted homebirth, or allowing their children to be barefoot. Mothers are looked at strangely for breastfeeding in public, not to mention if they breastfeed for more than a couple of years.

How the hell did we get to the point we are at? I mean, most of it is traceable of course, but still…we are so unnatural, most people don’t even know what natural IS anymore. They think if a product says “natural” that it means it is – far from it.

It’s impossible to be completely natural anymore – our world is too tainted with chemicals and invisible borders. If you want to live amongst society, it is just not a possibility. And so we do our best, if we want to be more primal. And by primal I do not mean like cavemen, or eating meat. I mean to be in touch with our deepest selves. How we would be in our most ideal conditions, without modernity, in touch with our real needs.

A real human need is sunlight. I work in a dark room all day, so when it is nice out, I go out to be in the sun. The way it shines at that point of the day is toward apartment buildings and shops, so I sit there. For someone to want to deny this from me, especially after months of winter, was crazy. I was not on someone’s doorstep, or in their personal space. To appease his ego, he wanted me to ask his permission and I would not. I only left because I wanted him to leave ME alone!
Never apologize for getting something you absolutely need for your well-being. I ended up sitting in the grass of someone else’s “personal property” because in that area, that’s all there is.

People might think you are nuts for doing what you do, even if it’s a necessity. People will question your dietary choices if you eat raw, they will be baffled that you go into the sun without chemicals all over yourself to block the “bad, cancer-causing” rays (yet the sunscreen is full of toxic  junk + carcinogens). They will be wide-eyed at you feeding your baby from your breast on the bus, they will scoff if you don’t wear shoes.

It’s a funny source, but this is a suitable quote from The Walking Dead comics that I love SO much!

“The thing about smart mother fuckers is that sometimes, they sound like crazy mother fuckers to stupid mother fuckers…”

How right that is.

Do what needs doing, and be proud of it.

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “Imaginary Boundaries

  1. I love this! I feel the exact same way and it drives me bonkers when people think I’m crazy for being a vegan or wanting to be more ‘one with nature’ or whatever. Glad to see more people out there like me. Chin up! They’ll all figure it out one day or another.

  2. I’ve never received a negative look from breastfeeding in public. I’m always aghast when I hear of this happening in B.C., we generally seem so much more aware than that, but you do still of these things every once in a while. I breastfed my kid until he was almost three! He’d happily still take breast milk if I let him. I remember when he was just a baby, my bff told me that she thought that when the child can walk on over, pull back your shirt and/or ask for milk that it was time to wean. My son was pulling my shirt back before he was even one, and I taught him to sign for milk (the only sign I taught him, it was very usefull). She knew better than to make any comments about his nursing at an older age, though. I wouldn’t take that crap from anyone, maybe it shows on my face!

    • Oh, good! Hopefully this happens less and less. T said he saw a woman breastfeeding on the bus and no one batted an eyelash. He thought it was great. I know it still happens, though. It’s insane!

      Breastfeeding until 3 is totally normal!

      • Yeah, I rarely held back. I’ve nursed pretty much everywhere, all over Asia (jungle nursing!) and some women were fascinated by me – once on a group tuk-tuk thing in Thailand Odin was asking to nurse, I thought maybe I shouldn’t whip it out right there, but these teenaged girls were like, “DO IT!” so I did, and then they whipped out their cell phones and took pictures! White woman nursing! I even mastered the art of nursing while walking around. I do have some personal limits, though. Some women are okay with everyone looking at their boobs and post pictures of their nipples and aureolas on Facebook or websites, but I have my limits for my own body exposure. The only incident I can think of where someone was obviously really uncomfortable was in a grocery store in Lake Cowichan. Odin had his first in-store screaming, raging temper tantrum. I had a cart of food and felt I couldn’t leave the store, so I literally did a “drop and nurse” right there in the aisle. I sat on the floor and started nursing Odin. The young male stock dude came over, and with his back turned to me (the obvious discomfort part) asked if I would like him to bring me a chair to sit on. I could see how some women would have been offended by his back being turned, but he was probably 19 and had never seen a woman nursing before and just didn’t know wtf to do.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s