
Growing up, if Boundaries had showed up on our doorstep, barged through the door, ransacked our fridge, settled on Doritos from the pantry and plopped down on our couch flashing a peace sign I think I’d have said, “Who on earth do you think you are?” (I think it would be pretty funny if Boundaries did that--quite contradictory of his name.)
Boundaries and I had never met.
Today, I see how imperative it is that I invite the Doritos loving friend in my home once in awhile, so I get a good look whether or not I’m well enough acquainted with Boundaries.
~~~
The writing life is like salt mining. We unearth salt every time we slap words on a page. We use our gifts. But in this, we can bury ourselves into deep and dark caverns, potentially cutting ourselves off from those who love us and from needed sunlight. We can tunnel so far into our novels, our essays, and/or our non-fiction inspirational that we lose sight of those waiting for us above ground. Put simply, we risk getting addicted to salt and forgetting our roles in relationships.
Here’s where my old friend comes in. We need to make sure to invite him to work w
ith us. Boundaries needs an open invitation to descend into the damp, wet, musing earth with us. We must be willing to mine salt with Boundaries as a co-miner. We need to remember that writing, though it pulses within our being, makes us lift the covers off our goosepimply legs in the morning, and haunts us as we are driving, showering and sleeping and every other inconvenient time to jot down a note, writing is not life.
Writing is not life.
We don’t live in salt mines, we live above ground where social skills are a necessity and many of us have kids with sticky fingers that need wiping and small little torsos that crave a fat hug. Some of us also have spouses that would like us to get a little more “salty” with them, if you catch my dr
ift.
We are called to mine. Salt mine writing is a calling. We don’t need to dismiss that or skip about the earth avoiding the deep. We can own it. But in owning it, let’s not lose sight of the surface, of those wanting us to ascend back up from the depths from time to time, back up and into their arms.
“You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men. You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp a put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:13-16
*photos by flickr
**I got to go in a salt mine as a wee one in Austria
“Oh! Teach us to live well! Teach us to live wisely and well!” Psalm 90:12 (Message)