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This power covers a lot of ground. As with the other Powers of Being, it is experienced and spoken about in different ways, such as:
He’s a mover and a shaker.
No flies on her!
Like a rolling stone.
Here today, gone tomorrow.
Moves like a snail.
She’s a quick one!
Love ’em and leave ‘em.
Going places.
Leap of faith.
Walk through your fear.
Finish the race…
and it keeps on going.
Movement can be “good” or “bad”. Is an ambitious businessperson “climbing the ladder of success” or “climbing over the backs” of their colleagues? Are you “riding their coat-tails” or “left in the dust”? A lot depends on point of view.
Is a date moving too slow? Or are they moving too fast, fixed on tagging all the bases and running home? I once had a girl pick up my hand and talk to it, saying “Whoa, Christopher Columbus. That’s all the exploring you get to do tonight”. (A remarkable young woman. It is not easy to set a clear limit with a teenage boy without stomping on their fragile sense of manhood, while making them laugh! She stayed in her position, getting me to change my movement.)
The Power of Moving makes the matter of boundaries, such as the sexual boundaries referred to above, complex. One has the choice of protecting one’s position, or leaving the field. Invasion becomes possible. Retreats or attacks are added to the list of choices. Friendly approach and mutual engagement, adjustment of rhythms to rhythms of a partner, cues to speed up or slow down, all can expand the variety of human interaction.
In talking about movement I need to talk about boundaries, and since that terminology is used in differently but equally valid ways depending on the speaker, I need to define what I mean. When I talk about boundaries, I am usually speaking about the balance a person maintains being self determined, based on what feels right and safe to them, to their need of intimacy and interaction with other people. Moving can be from choices of how much physical distance one maintains, to eye contact or lack of it, facial expression or lack of it, and types of movements and postures within one’s own space, referred to as “body language”; it is not just a matter of physical distance. Five feet away from an angry person feels very different than five feet from a friendly person.
Are your boundaries permeable, allowing lots of interaction, or impregnable, allowing no entry of other or expression of self? Some people differentiate between boundaries, which can be flexible, and walls, which are rigid defenses. Walls can be useful for survival but limiting when danger is not present.
It has occurred to me that the type of boundary a person is maintaining, affects their perception of what is going on. A flat windowpane lets in one kind of image, while a curved or warped window pane bends images into different forms. So it is with us. A newborn can sleep through chaos, protected by what Neo-Freudians call a stimulus shield. A person with romantic inclinations may have a boundary influencing them to see the whole world as being in love. To a person in a fighting boundary the world looks like one heck of a mean opponent.
I’ve drawn a cartoon of a barn adventure to illustrate both the different activities characters are engaged in, and what I think their boundaries might look like if we could see them. Imagine what things would look like from the inside of each boundary.
The nurturer boundary, complimented by the “nurturee” boundary, is not limited to mammals. The chicks-to-be in Hedda’s eggs depend for survival on the warmth she provides them. (They also depend on the yolk and white Hedda produced in the egg.) Despite the physical boundary of eggshells, warmth, heartbeats, movements, sounds and other vibrations are transferred back and forth through the shells between hen and chicks. Hedda is drawn to roost on the eggs as human parents are drawn to hold and feed their baby. It is a matter of species survival.
The focus is on sensations coming from the other, parent to child and child to parent, combined with parent’s watchfulness to monitor the safety of the environment. Most of the world is shielded off, and the boundary between the two is thin, easily penetrated. Neo-Freudians speak of the stimulus shield protecting the newborn from overwhelming sensations. To a lesser degree, there are such shields later in life, as in pair bonding. Parent and child are almost a part of each other; to a very young child, there is little to no separation. Parent is experienced as an extension of self. Parent may also feel the child as extension of self beyond the actual period of feeding. This arrangement has benefits at some points in life, but can lead to problems in other situations. Some people get stuck in a boundary type and treat other adults as children, which doesn’t usually go over well. These types of benefits and pitfalls can carry over, to another kind of boundary, the one enjoyed by Plough and Cher.
The pair-bond boundary is similar to the nurturing boundary, and some have noticed how similar those two can feel at times.
Though it often includes sex, it is by no means identical with it. It often involves a hyper-focus on one’s partner and a muting of extraneous sensations. The two partners’ experiences of each other allow for increased transfer of feeling between them, and increased identification.
The chief difference between a healthy pair-bond boundary and the nurturer/nurturee boundary is this: Pair-bonds are ideally give and take exchanges between people who perceive each other as equal in worth and overall competence. People who usually function as independent, competent equals in the larger world benefit from periods of pair-bonding with those they love. Both partners can nurture and be nurtured in a way that reinforces their strength and competence. Cher and Plough were able to quickly move from pair-bonding to independent crisis management when the need arose. This flexibility, though often stressful, is one hallmark of a well-functioning relationship between equal adults.
When the relationship is between partners who do not see each other as equal in worth, the boundary becomes less of a pair-bond. Predator/prey dynamics may intrude. In a clearly abusive relationship, this is relatively easy to see., particularly for some outside the relationship. There are many instances where things are not so clear, though. In the natural world as in human relationships, some predators camouflage themselves to make it easier to obtain prey. Some learn not to kill their prey outright, thus preserving their food supply. This is parasitism. People in such relationships may have trouble perceiving the situation, but recognizing and responding in self-affirming ways is crucial.
The stalking phase is divided into creeping and stillness, moving and staying. This is what Famished Fox is doing at the start of the barnyard adventure. One slowly moves closer to the prey when they are not looking at you, or the predator knows they have nowhere to run. The goal is to make the chase as short and efficient as possible, conserving the predator’s energy. The shortest possible chase is a successful pounce.
Chasing can be straightforward or take a lot of turns, depending on the situation. The dynamic is basic: a fanged mouth hurtling toward the prey.
While the predator boundary is clearly necessary to survival in some circumstances, there is a clear disadvantage to being stuck within it (which is also true of fight/flight and flight/fight). Everything seen from that boundary is seen as food or not-food. This shuts out a lot of life affirming possibilities. Many valuable things are not food. Equals, lovers, beautiful views, etc. are all lost to the eat or be eaten mentality. One may get their stomach full but it is an empty life. I remember hiking with family up Hurricane Mountain in the Adirondacks one summer. There was a beautiful view going into the next state. A couple of men arrived behind us, also impressed by the view but in a different way. “Wow, you could make a killing in real estate up here!” said one.” “Yeah”, said the other.
Among human beings the stakes of hunting are often not food, but some other form of energy. Money, professional status, notches on the sexual belt, various forms of credentials…these just start the list of hunted after goals. Most of them have to do with survival of one kind or other. All of them have the power to warp a person’s perception of reality. Pursuit of these goals often involves varied forms of predation, too many to fit into the farm saga. One example, broadly applicable, is the amoeboid boundary:
I remember, as a school kid, being fascinated with amoebas. Such tiny microscopic creatures, moving and eating in very simple ways. Judging by the science fiction called The Blob in which a very young Steve McQueen battled and defeated a horrifying monster which was nothing more than a humongous amoeba, I wasn’t the only one fascinated.
Usually, amoebas move slowly, in ways that do not seem threatening. With apparent laziness they use the flexibility of their cell boundaries to send out projections called pseudopods. When food is detected, the amoeba flows toward it, sort of like someone reaching for the potato chips while watching television, hoping no one will notice. Pseudopods surround the food slowly. When escape is nearly cut off, things speed up a bit. Prey is surrounded, seized, digested, The poor potato chips don’t have a chance. It looks like a version of creep and pounce. In terms of human interactions, I believe most people are like myself in not wanting to be anybody’s potato chip. But since people are complicated, avoiding a place on the dinner plate is also more complicated. The embrace of an amoeba looks an awful lot like a hug. Like a parent or lover, the reaching arms may seem to say “come here, let me take care of you” or “I need you, please help me.” Most often, it is not a clear, sincere “Work with me here, so I can devour you.”
We can literally get “taken in” by the arms of someone with an amoeboid boundary. At some point one may realize that they are being drained more than fed. Sometimes this realization comes only when the relationship has broken down or is over. On some rare occasions the person with amoeboid boundaries realizes they are dining on rather than with their partner, and seeks to change. The more common case is that they have developed too thick a hide to be awakened; the “I want to change” statement can often be no more than a variation “I need you, please help me.” subterfuge. The give away is that such a person will resist, sabotage, or co-opt efforts to make use of outside help. They may be skillful enough to trick the helper, such as a couple’s therapist or minister, into helping them maintain the dinner plate status quo.
A note of caution: Do not be quick to judge someone a predator until you have examined your own boundaries and the perceptual distortions they can cause. This may involve seeing a counselor or other helper. To one stuck in a flight or fight boundary, the whole world can look like a predator. Perfectly healthy opportunities for give and take relationships may be lost. Images seen through boundaries can be distorted, as through a warped lens, murkily.
There are ways to avoid being someone’s potato chip. Here is one:
The hiding boundary has saved a lot of lives. It is very effective: put yourself in an inaccessible or in a position and posture you do not stand out. This boundary is constricted. In a tortoise, the hiding place and camouflage are built right in: pull your head and legs in and imitate a rock. Another way to hide in plain sight is to disappear into a crowd. I’ve found that sometimes keeping a low profile and acting invisible can actually work for humans. The first stage of hiding can overlap with the flight/fight instinct if one is discovered by a predator.
Remember that the view from inside the hiding place is often dark, bleak, and sometimes seductive. Hiding from pain with pain killers after pain is gone is an extreme example. If the tendency to hide prevails after risk has decreased (life is never entirely risk free) life experience will be limited to what can be squeezed into the hiding space. Hiding may be a good way to survive but not a fulfilling way to live.
Fight or flight is also a way to survive but not a fulfilling way to live.
The person in such a boundary may be stock-still or moving in an agitated way, neither advancing or retreating. (Should I run like hell or attack? Are they faster than me or tougher than me? Do they have a weak spot? etc.) These are questions being considered in a time which may be very short but feel very long. These are boundaries of transition designed for high risk, producing an intense level of physical and emotional stress. Some people live in such an intense state for advanced periods. They may perceive themselves to be in continuous danger. Sadly enough for some people this is an accurate perception, for children or others in abusive households, high crime neighborhoods, war zones, or other such circumstances. A person habituated to this state may persist in it long after the danger is gone. Many times they transition to fighting, fleeing or hiding, which will provide some release from the stress but have unfortunate results. Some will provoke a fight or flight simply to reduce the tension.
As Farmer Cher showed us with her impressive shooting ability, human beings have brought great ingenuity to this boundary type. The archer fish may be able to knock down an insect by spitting a drop of water with incredible precision, and spitting cobras can poison from several feet away, but humans are matchless in their ability to maim or kill from a distance, metaphorically via long distance communication, or physically by physical attacks. Attacks can be carried out with a letter, a derogatory facial expression, rifles, baseball bats, or nuclear explosions. The attacker feels justified by a perceived threat or injury, real or imagined. In such a perception anyone can be perceived as an enemy, as many a would be peacemaker has learned to their chagrin.
None of us would be here if humans lacked the capacity to fight. There are many fights that need to be won for survival, against destructive forces, including our own misdirected fighting skills. Flight can be destructive in other ways.
Fleeing is so basic it can be perceived in very primitive, sometimes microscopic, animals. Tiny creatures wiggle, swim, or ooze away from danger. Flat worms three cell layers thick can be trained to move away from white or black areas of their environment depending on where the experimenter has located the electric shock. Running away has saved a lot of lives. On the other hand, running away can sometimes be worse than the pain itself.
People have been creative enough to create many variations of this theme. A partner may abruptly change the subject when an unpleasant issue arises. An alcoholic trying to find sobriety moves to another state where nobody knows them or their history (the famous “geographic cure”). A kid skips a test to avoid the pain of feeling incompetent. A person jumps from one sexual partner to another, fleeing the potential of true intimacy. (“Great Lovers” in many cases are “Great Escapists.)
A person experiencing grave physical or emotional pain sometimes goes “somewhere else”, their expression blank, their focus not on their immediate surroundings. They may later describe a perception of leaving their bodies to survive pain or the memory of pain. Like other forms of flight, this can be an important survival skill in some cases. In other circumstances it can seriously impair the ability to function adequately in the present. Fortunately, it is possible to learn new lessons, different coping skills, in creating a new life. On to the Powers of Building and Breaking!
Part 3 to be released in December 2022
~ Wry Welwood