FIREworks

I respect my boundaries and practice daily gratitude

For some obvious reasons when I think about July, fireworks is one of the first things that come to mind. I would guess that it is something that many people enjoy watching and being a part of. However, it would be safe to say that I have an above average affinity towards thunderous sounds and showers of colored sparks in all their variant forms.

When I was 12 years old I had a paper-route. Coming from a small community it was one of the very few opportunities a boy my age could use to make money. It was certainly not easy money however as the town I lived in had a population of about 800 people and my house was nearly 2 miles outside of the city limits. I would estimate that the ride was in the vicinity of 8 miles each day to finish my route. It was a lot of work for very little pay so what I spent my money on was always a good indicator of my priorities at the time. For some time prior to and during the fireworks season I saved and spent every last cent on fireworks.

Several days before the 4th of July I began to choreograph my fireworks extravaganza show. I wanted to start with some of the smaller fireworks that spin (ground flowers are a favorite). I spent the better part of one afternoon constructing a tall launching pad constructed from logs to showcase a spinning pinwheel firework I had purchased. I had smoke bombs, sparklers, some colored fountains interspersed with whistling fountains, and all of it was to lead up to a grand finale of multiple large fountains being lit off simultaneously as the 1812 overture played in the background. In my head it was going to be spectacular!

On the morning of the 4th I decided I needed just a few more things to complete the perfect show so I took my bicycle and road the 2 miles into town. The only business was a gas station/convenience store where you could buy penny candy, soda, or a year-old box of pop-tarts.

I carefully picked out a small assortment of fireworks and spent what little money I had left. I walked outside and rounded the corner of the building where I had parked my bike and for a moment I just breathed in the excitement and grandeur of the day. I was not allowed to lite off any fireworks prior to the Holiday, I knew what that meant but the thought occurred to me that technically it was the 4th of July and I didn't have to necessarily wait until that evening to start enjoying one of my favorite things. I decided that it would be a great idea to enjoy just one or two ground flowers. Even during the daylight I reasoned that the spinning and bright colors would certainly be at least in part as enjoyable as seeing them in the dark. Getting 60% of the maximum enjoyment in that moment still sounded pretty good to me.

I took a spinning ground flower out of my plastic bag full of joy, held it in one hand, lit it with the other, and tossed it onto the cement. It bounced a few times and then began to roll in a direction and at a speed that I had not intended. As it passed by the gas pumps it continued to bounce and then landed in the crack between the asphalt and the lid that is used to cover the underground gasoline tanks. 

I felt the type of sheer and complete panic that led me to freeze and behave in less than logical ways. When it ignited instead of spinning away it stayed firmly lodged where it had landed. I ran to where the firework was and to my dismay saw small flames flickering out from beneath the edges of the metal lid.  I could not even imagine the trouble I was going to be in if I was found out. My fear motivated me to act in self-preservation instead of taking into account the imminent danger of the situation. As calmly as I could I walked back into the store and politely asked for a glass of water. I rushed back outside and tossed it on the flames. As you might expect it did nothing to improve the situation. As I returned for another cup someone rushed out of the gas station with a fire extinguisher and doused the flames. I jumped on my bike and road towards home as if the cops were chasing me, and I was almost certain that if they weren't already, they would be in a matter of moments. As the adrenaline slowly worked its' way through my tiny limbs that were gripping my handlebars tightly and pumping vigorously on plastic pedals my mind raced through the events. Suddenly I realized that in my panic I had left behind my small plastic bag with the remaining fireworks. I spun my bike around and returned to the scene of the crime. 

They were gone. Crap. Would they know it was me? What about all the lost fun? Those are my fireworks, how dare they take them! Instead of cutting my losses and feeling gratitude for what I had just escaped I rationalized that I was the victim here having had my hard earned money taken from me. I brazenly walked back into the store and casually asked if anyone had turned in a bag of fireworks that I had accidentally dropped. I was taken aback when the clerk yelled at me that the owner had them and wasn't going to give them back until I went and talked to him. I was told he was at the softball game and I better go up there right away. 

I left quickly and pondered if I should go talk to him. I was pretty sure they knew I was the culprit and that I was in trouble, but how could they take my fireworks? It certainly didn't seem fair to me. I pedaled slowly to the park with emotions swinging from fear to indignation. I stopped and sat on my bike in the trees just beyond the outfield and fumed. I sulked and shed some tears and eventually turned around and slowly pedaled home.

I would keep that secret until I was 28. The experience at that age was scary, shameful, and embarrassing. Reflecting on it now I can see several lessons that I failed to learn at that young age. The two that stick out to me today is how ignoring the boundaries in place for my safety put me in harms way, and that a lack of feeling gratitude led me to behave with entitlement.

Certainly at the age of 12 I often saw boundaries or rules as constricting and oppressive. It seemed they were there to suck all of the fun out of life. I think I sometimes hold on to that view even now. A good boundary however is not designed to trap me but to keep me safe from harm, and free from some of the potentially painful consequences of acting without restriction. It creates the borders wherein I can freely experience and make mistakes. Now that I am in a position to establish some of my own boundaries it is helpful for me to see that they are necessary and useful. Too many and it is suffocating and perhaps a futile attempt to control all of life's outcomes, but without any I can feel chaotic and unbalanced. Setting clear boundaries in my life with relationships, self-care, work, and how I spend my time are just as important as the boundaries I set for my children about not playing in the road or eating foods other than jellybeans and licorice. 

When I did break those rules of where and when I should be playing with fireworks I found myself in very real danger. At the time I did not realize how severe that danger was, but by some intervention of providence, grace or dumb luck I was able to avoid disaster. Instead of recognizing that or the many things in my life I have reason to be grateful for my mind turned immediately to the losses. Gratitude seems to cultivate joy and increases my ability to be fully present in the moment. Focusing on my losses develops feelings of entitlement and bitterness. Believing that the world owes me whatever I may desire at any given moment will inevitably leave me disappointed and angry. Over time the bitterness that can take root from that will choke out joy and leave me focused in the past or hopeless about the future.

Today I will practice gratitude and see how healthy boundaries in my life create safety and facilitate my development along my chosen path. What does gratitude cultivate for you? What impact do boundaries have on your life?