The one border we all cross
- The
one border we all cross, so often and with such well-rehearsed
reflexes that we barely notice it, is the threshold of our own home. We
open the front door, we close the front door: Do you appease
household deities, or leave a lamp burning in your tabernacle? Do you
quickly pat down pockets or bag to check you have the necessary equipment
for the journey? Or take a final check in the hall mirror, ‘to prepare a
face to meet the faces that you meet’ You lock the door. You’ve crossed
the border. For the rest of our lives we will be crossing boeders, small and big.
- Which makes one reflect on Pascal’s warning that all humanity’s misery
derives from not being able to sit alone in a quiet room.
- cgnitive
mapping is the way we mobilise a definition of who we are, and borders are
the way we protect this definition. All borders – the lines and symbols on
a map, the fretwork of walls and fences on the ground, and the often
complex enmeshments by which we organise our lives – are explanations of
identity. We construct borders, literally and figuratively, to fortify our
sense of who we are; and we cross them in search of who we might
become.
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