Sometimes, the first impulse I get when I see a barrier, railing, or window is that tiny little goblin mode voice of intrusive thought that says “Run through it!”. Everyone gets those little intrusive thoughts. Does not mean that I nor anyone else would act on them. Often these thoughts are just simple “what if I..” simulations. At least with the sane and well adjusted ones they are. I do however think that those thoughts reflect human nature to a degree. People love breaking barriers. A main character in story breaks through the limits of power. A movie character overthrows the long standing structure of society and breaks down limits for the people. It makes the story interesting and is interesting because we desire it. Change is exciting and there is a level of personal power behind it. I suspect everyone desires that control on some level.

I have noticed that I have the annoying tendencies to try and power through barriers. I don’t mean physical ones but in other actions. Trust me that little voice has never caused actual physical chaos, but it has won in more silent ways that are detrimental to me in the long run. One of the best examples of this was in my post “The Quest For a Treatment For SMA Part 1” in the medical tab on this site. I encountered many barriers: insurance problems, an added surgery and failure of proper procedure care. At each of these junctures I could have recognized them for what they were, barriers, and turned around. I chose to try and push through against everything and came out with PTSD on the other side. I believe these were barriers placed by God to try and make me slow down or stop. My human nature chose otherwise.

If that example isn’t enough, I have an example from this week. If you have not yet read my post “Letter to a Surrendered Pet” in the writing tab yet, know that I’m being forced to give up a pet bird because my caregiver can no longer help me care for him. It is painful and I quickly looked for a solution to him finding a new home as quickly as possible because of that pain. I wanted it ejected from my life. I tried everything. Rescues, avian shelters, even selling on Next Door. Rescues and shelters seemed agonizingly slow to reach back and prospective buyers seemed shady or a bad fit. I felt trapped in a horrible limbo of guilt, uncertainty, grief, and helplessness. After almost a week, today, things changed. A friend reached out and offered to take him. Better yet, I can still be able to see him. An opportunity that would not have otherwise occurred. I am also confident in her animal care. Grief lessened. All other barriers of progress suddenly made sense. This was what was supposed to happen. The temporary pain was in exchange for a lack of long term pain. All for me. I’m forever grateful for these barriers and shudder to think of the alternatives.

Sometimes those barriers are meant to keep you safe.