Are you ready to switch off your screens and ponder or discuss another writing/conversation prompt from my friend Tyrean Martinson’s book? Here’s my take on it.
I was thirteen when I first visited the United Kingdom. Back then, there was no Chunnel that connected the continent with the island. There was no physical evidence when we were exactly on top of the border between France and England. I guess, I felt I was already in England when I set foot on the British ferry that took us over. Later during that vacation, I actually jumped across the English-Scottish border for the fun of it; there was a marker by the roadside that enabled me to do so.
To straddle a border, one has to know where the border is. You need a marker. The captain of a boat naturally has their technical gizmos that tell them when they are crossing a border or have reached the limits of a country’s three-mile-zone. As a passenger, you can only make wild guesses unless your cell phone still has reception. The same goes for travels on planes. I loved the days when each seatback still had a monitor on which you could follow the process of your journey via something of a mix of Flight Aware and Google Maps. It was one of the best geography lessons one could get.
Straddling borders also happens in a metaphorical way. As an immigrant, I am straddling different cultural topics each and every day. Sometimes, I might not even be aware of it. But there were those times when it was pretty obvious. In most cases, it is a wonderful way of taking in the best things of two worlds.
But there were times, when straddling two worlds demanded courage and patience. Such as in being married to a man working this side of the Atlantic Ocean while still waiting for my Green Card on the other. I was reading up on everything I could about my new home to be ready to jump into my new life with both feet. The oddest month in my life was the time when I quit work, emptied my apartment, and was in between chairs. Because that is what it felt like. Straddling borders can mean that you feel there is no ground under your feet.
What I learned from being neither here nor there? In case I’m not happy with the dilemma, I have to make a decision that holds. Like swapping one citizenship for another. Like communicating in English first, so that the people immediately around me know what I’m about; that’s why I run my Facebook pages in English. Like celebrating holidays the American way with just a tinge of my former German traditions.
Maybe, in my subconscious, I already made a decision when jumping from one side to the other at the English-Scottish border. I didn’t really straddle it. I was in with both feet in either country, each time I jumped. Because if you straddle two options, they might buck underneath you like a horse. It’s like being the servant of two masters; in the end, the metaphorical border will play against you. Indecision is the mother of all chaos. So, rather than straddle a border, a threshold, I cross over with all my heart.
I resonate with this limbo straddling borders feeling. I’m straddling between disabled and able bodied. That may sound a strange concept and one I would have dismissed as impossible in the past. How can I be both disabled and not disabled ? .. I cycle round from one to the other throughout the day in my ability to physically walk/stand/ sit .. and whether I’m in pain or pain free.. going from level 0 to 10 in the space of half an hour. It’s a learning experience which is teaching me to see life from a different perspective.
Oh my, it never occurred to me that one could be straddling borders in such a way. Pain/health issues are certainly not anything of one’s own decision when it comes to being on one side or the other … Everyone would make that decision immediately if they could to be free of pain and in full health. My heart is going out to you, and I hope you find the help you need.