Boundaries: How to Set Them And What They're Made Of

The Chinese lantern plant (Physalis alkekengi) encloses its fruit in a membrane while it grows, to protect it from predators.

Visualization is a good tool for developing new skills. During a meditation session, I had an image of myself suddenly enclosed in crystal, like a giant geode around me. It felt like a protective shell snapping into place.

As thoughts bubbled up, I returned to that image whenever a thought had the potential to hurt me. It was powerful. My mind wandered to the topic of boundaries, something that many people wish they could enforce more easily, because good fences really do make good neighbors.

Boundaries—defined in psychology as "a recognized line—explicit or implicit—that defines what behaviors, communications, or roles are acceptable between people."

"I can't talk after 9 p.m." is a boundary. "No." is a boundary, as well as a complete sentence. A boundary does not even have to be verbally communicated—it can be getting up and walking away from someone who is speaking to you disrespectfully. It can be as simple as silence, raised eyebrow optional.

During my visualization, I imagined different kinds of "cocoons," like the crystal geode—but more permeable. No one wants to always be in a cold fortress, no matter how sparkly.

Leather came to mind. Leather is literally a thicker skin. I used to think the recommendation to grow a thicker skin was offensive, not to mention impossible—but now I see it differently. If someone sends a verbal dart your way, you have options—you can accept the dart into your heart, or defend yourself against it. (You cannot stop or prevent them from sending it, because the only behavior you have control over is your own.)

Harsh words sting, but they don't have to pierce. Maybe rather than messing with your skin, it’s better to avoid people who throw darts in the first place.

My favorite boundary to imagine myself having is a cell membrane. It is permeable, but only permits transit on its own terms. I like the idea of going about life with a membrane that accepts what I want, rejects what I don't, and allows toxic substances to diffuse back from whence they came.

Cell Membrane: Water can flow through freely, but proteins need keys.

The kind of boundary I want to snap over me like a forcefield will depend on what's trying to get in. Bad self-talk? Crystal fortress. Sunshine? Cell membrane, of course. A leather trench coat will need to be donned when going into certain social situations. So

What kind of boundaries would you like to set? What kind of cocoon would make you feel protected?