This past spring a whole jumble of good and bad things occurred just as I returned home from my winter adventure season. I tried to push through the spring. I tried to show gratitude for the good stuff. I tried to understand the bad stuff. I tried to come up with other plans. I ran out of tears, tolerance, and ideas.
One of many things that have been difficult to find time for has been to erect a better structure to define my back yard. My current fence is slowly falling apart. It is failing to serve its purpose. It has become a priority of late. Functionality. Safety. Privacy. Esthetics. All good reasons to build a fence and yes, I can check all those boxes as reasons in my case. And now it’s time. It cannot wait another day.
Unfortunately I am unable to afford to do as much as I’d like to. I can’t afford to build a brand new structure right to my actual property line, therefore I’m sacrificing the use of some of my own property until finances allow. But I am going to do what I can for now. Something good enough to bring me resolve about what has made this effort such a priority.
To build a fence with raw materials and no directions is a challenging act of mental ability, dexterity, determination and physical strength. I’m finding that at this time, to build a fence translates into recognizing that right now, I’m feeling a little fragile. Or a lot.
To build a fence means erecting a structure that will provide some much needed seclusion.
To build a fence means emotional protection, blocking out the bad vibes and negative energy, guarding me and my family from what’s lurking on the other side.
To build a fence means defining my sacred space. My terms. My parameters. My wooden line in the sand.
To build a fence means rekindling my confidence by tackling something bigger than normal.
To build a fence means accepting help. Help from people who care about me and my well-being, no matter how raw and tired and ornery I’ve become.
To build a fence means feeling gratitude for having more than one person’s perspective of what can be, or how it could be.
To build a fence means team work on something to be proud of together, no matter how self-reliant and closed off I have allowed myself to get the last few months.
To build a fence means facing and overcoming obstacles, whether they be weed infestations, or tree trunks gnarled into metal, ominous weather, or letting go the pain of a lost relationship.
To build a fence means feeling power, satisfaction and inner peace through a hard days work.
To build a fence means creating something beautiful, functional, and sturdy enough to carry me through a difficult time.
To build a fence means tearing down old and rebuilding new can be a bright, exciting positive experience.
To build a fence means resurrecting an environment where flora and fauna can once again flourish.
To build a fence means taking pride in knowing I have accomplished something important, and have done it well.
To build a fence means being thankful. Thankful for even being able to build a fence.
What have you built lately?
About PR
What an interesting perspective on what for so many means erecting instead of breaking down walls. I wish you huge success with this project! And, yes, it’s wonderful to grow in a way that makes it OK for others to help without an eye toward reciprocity. I’ve been there.
Yes, yes, and yes! What have I built lately? A book. It’s still under construction, but I’m slowly building it.
A resume!
I helped build and repair many fences growing up raising goats. To me, “building a fence” means keeping the animals from eating things they shouldn’t.