Boundlessness

Contributed by Gayatri

In Berkeley, we have started a monthly Yogini study group where we discuss books and share our experience as women on the path. We can never tell where each book or topic will lead us, but our meetings are always journeys into our own experience and beyond our limited selves. The collective wisdom often takes my breath away.

In a recent meeting, we asked the question “What is it to live Boundlessly?” When I shared this question with a friend, she responded by questioning such a goal and saying perhaps our bonds are what keeps us here, keeps us human. Our study group discussion and this exchange lead me to ponder the topic further as follows. While I think the question of the bonds we form is relevant to the quality of boundlessness, I do not think that boundlessness is necessarily purely the state of not being bound to people, places, or even things. It is, I think, more centrally about the absence of boundaries. It is too simplistic to just say we are all interconnected, all one. As much as we say this, I find that essential oneness is often poorly understood, and not so easy for me to fully realize with any degree of stability. Yet I know it is central (and to some degree scientifically documented) that we are just energetic blips, fields of more or less contracted and patterned energy (bound energy, in fact) in a sea of tiny particles that come down to pure energy light.

To my mind, there lies the root of boundlessness…. to truly and consistently know my “self”, to be immersed in and not separate from the larger sea of consciousness. What might then come from this knowing is a totally different experience of boundaries and connections to others and, I imagine, a quite limitless freedom. In that freedom, I might then be free to fully experience my humanness and equally free to be bound to others. By the same token, I could be equally able to simply release such bonds when the appropriate or necessary moment comes. Perhaps not without some human experience of discomfort, but with a knowing that one is whole and inseparable regardless of any perceived loss or separation.

Residing in such a place, I might also move beyond the struggle to set appropriate boundaries and limits – the question of when to say “Yes” or “No” or of when and how far to let people in. I suspect that within that place of freedom lies the capacity to set boundaries appropriately as the energetic needs of a situation dictate, without self-referencing (what does it say about me if I say “No”), fear or resentment. And then, in any moment I might overflow those boundaries flooding the universe with the love and light, melting into another or everything, into that infinite sea we call Siva. For me, and for other women, I think the work lies in cultivating the capacity to release our bonds gracefully and to establish reasonable boundaries without tension. As nurturers, often our attachments to family and friends and our connection to the home and community define us as women. The message we get is that we are cold and unfeminine if we do not outwardly suffer with every loss or separation. Cultural stereotypes press us to be nice, always helpful and willing to say yes regardless of whether a request is reasonable or appropriate. Perhaps for some people, growth lies in allowing themselves to be bound to others and in lifting the boundary walls.

It is my experience that the work is where the greatest discomfort lies. I have found that the exploration of setting boundaries and releasing bonds to be very uncomfortable work. But I have begun to suspect that it is the only way towards real love. Because how can I really love in the biggest sense, unconditionally, unless I can both comfortably bind myself to others and gracefully release those bonds when the time comes to let go – be it death, the end of a love affair or watching a child leave home. So perhaps to live boundlessly is to know true love. Perhaps is it the doorway to living without being bound by fear and the patterns of our previous doings, thinkings and feelings. The place in which each moment is fresh and new as Dharmanidhi so often points to.

The thought of this is sufficiently terrifying because to really play this way I see that I must be willing – at every moment – to risk everything dear, sweet, comfortable, familiar and to be prepared to be oh so uncomfortable. Pretending, holding back and buffering must fall away. Yet with this possibility raised, perhaps even tasted, the alternative feels so small. An irrepressible longing rises up in me that will not be ignored.

So I offer up these thoughts simply as an invitation to further discussion. I look forward with great anticipation to the next meeting of our local study group and encourage those of you in other locations to come together as women to support each other with your wisdom and love.

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