I sometimes and sometimes more often than just sometimes get a little frustrated with life. No manual. Correct. Nothing. Nobody to ask. It is as though you have to prod, guess around the corner, infer, employ intuition, your friend's insight and perspective and of course on occasion the exact angle with which your dog looks at you. All in an effort to find what bugs you. What is just under the surface that you aware of but cannot pinpoint. It simply hints. Normally by making you ever so slightly uncomfortable and sometimes very uncomfortable.
My latest moment of illumination, Edison's brilliance is the fact that I do in fact need boundaries but not to be boxed in. My whole being rebels against it and goes to war - specifically against myself. Even though it seems that somebody else is boxing us it inevitably turns out to be ourselves as we buy into the stuff. The difference between a box and boundaries? Well a box is exactly that. Fixed, defined, no air, no light, no sky, no earth. And boundaries. More like principles. More open, can see beyond them, can measure ourselves and when on a day it is necessary there is of course a gate in the fence. It allows us to grow.