Barriers

Barriers

In life, we often become frustrated or disillusioned when things don't go smoothly. We encounter barriers that, at times, seem insurmountable, and our first instinct is often to figure out how to get rid of them.

But I wonder if we can look at barriers in a different way.

What if some of the things that get in our way are actually what lead us toward the true essence of life?

Think about water.

Our bodies are made up mostly of water, yet we can be remarkably resistant to taking on some of its most important properties as we move through life.

Water doesn't fight the rock in front of it.

It flows around it.

Over it.

Under it.

And sometimes, given enough time, it moves right through it.

Maybe that's where the phrase "go with the flow" comes from.

Think about what draws us to water.

People travel thousands of miles to see Niagara Falls. We hike difficult trails to find waterfalls hidden in the wilderness. We kayak and white-water raft through rivers precisely because of the obstacles that interrupt the flow.

And there's something else interesting about those barriers.

They create beauty.

When we sit beside a babbling brook or a running stream and listen to the peaceful sound of the water, that sound is created by the very things the water encounters along the way.

Rocks.

Trees.

Riverbanks.

The water meets a barrier, changes direction, and creates something beautiful in the process.

Even the sound of ocean waves comes from resistance. Waves don't simply roll endlessly onto the shore. They break against a barrier and then return to the ocean, only to come back again.

What if our lives work in a similar way?

Maybe barriers are where resilience is developed.

To be like water, we have to be willing to adapt. We may need to flow around something, over it, under it, or sometimes patiently work our way through it.

Anyone who has seen the Grand Canyon has seen what persistence can do.

Water doesn't need to overpower a barrier.

It simply keeps moving.

Given enough time, patience, and persistence, it can shape something that once seemed immovable.

I wonder what that means for the barriers in our own lives.

There's another reason I think barriers matter.

Without contrast, how would we recognize what is beautiful?

Have you ever tried to take a picture of a black dog lying on a black carpet or couch?

Sometimes you can barely see the dog at all.

Our brains need contrast to recognize what's there.

Maybe life works the same way.

If everything were easy, would we recognize happiness?

If we never experienced disappointment, would we recognize joy?

If we never experienced loss, would we appreciate what we have?

I remember my daughters asking me why people have to die and why bad things happen in the world. One way I've tried to explain it is that without the difficult parts of life, we might not fully appreciate the good.

Of course, that doesn't make suffering easy or make difficult experiences something we should simply bear without emotion.

It simply gives us another way to look at them.

I think we can see this in our everyday lives.

In much of the developed world, having food and water is something we rarely have to think about. We have an incredible number of choices, and sometimes we even become frustrated when the restaurant doesn't have the exact meal or flavors we wanted.

"I ordered this special, and you're out?"

Meanwhile, there are people in other parts of the world who don't know where their next meal is coming from.

A simple bowl of rice can mean something entirely different when you don't know when you'll eat again.

Same food.

Different experience.

Different perspective.

Maybe that's the lesson of the barrier.

We don't always get to choose what stands in front of us.

But we do have some choice in how we meet it.

We can fight it.

We can become consumed by it.

We can decide that it shouldn't be there.

Or we can ask ourselves:

How can I move with this?

What is this experience asking me to learn?

Where might there be an opportunity for growth?

The barrier may not disappear.

But our relationship with it can change.

And maybe, just maybe, the things we spend so much of our lives trying to avoid are sometimes the very things that shape us into who we're meant to become.

Like water, we don't always need to be stronger than the obstacle.

Sometimes we simply need to keep moving.