(from a telephone conversation)

My friend and colleague and I are currently preparing to run a training session on establishing personal boundaries. So, as often happens when you spend a lot of time thinking about one and the same subject, it begins to seem as if the whole world is vibrating with words and facts “about boundaries.” And then this brief telephone dialogue takes place — the one used as the epigraph above...

For a while I reflect on what happened, and then I catch myself having several realizations at once. I wanted to share them in the form of a short, informal reflection. Especially since all of this fits our training perfectly and therefore really does need to be thought through.

So, the first “insight”: I realized that I had just been working with my own boundaries. Because someone at the other end of the line was trying to violate them without my permission. And I was defending them. I did nothing extraordinary, but two things pleased me most: I responded to the intrusion calmly, treating the whole conversation almost like a game; and secondly, I defended my boundaries because it was I who ended the conversation — one I had not initiated, did not need, and was not interested in — and I ended it exactly as I wanted to: politely and with a minimum expenditure of energy and effort.

The result of this interaction and of defending my boundaries: I feel satisfied, slightly uplifted, and, one might say, I received a surge of creative energy.

But I kept thinking.

I fully understand that this young man — judging by his voice — “at the other end of the line” is simply doing his job: making cold calls to customers in the hope or attempt to sell some additional company services or products. He knows nothing about me or about the many people he has already called or will call. He does not think about the fact that his call may come at a particularly inconvenient moment. He has probably heard sharp, perhaps even rude replies more than once... Maybe he already hates his job, if he has been doing it long enough, or is beginning to wonder whether work in sales or a call center suits him, if he has only recently started. He is unlikely to feel much of an emotional lift, because the price of the services or products he might have sold me would hardly bring him a significant bonus from the sale. And the call itself turned out to be completely fruitless for him.

After thinking this through, I asked myself: do I feel sorry for him? Without a moment’s hesitation, I answered “no.” Because my thoughts then led me to this: perhaps I even did him a favor?.. Maybe he did not study sales techniques very well and will now go back to the material or attend a training course so that next time he knows what to do in a situation like this and — most importantly — is psychologically prepared for it: able to keep a clear head, control his emotions, and continue... selling.

Or perhaps, after encountering me and then another couple of dozen similar responses, and finding that he has no inner resources to counter them with anything, he will leave this line of work and become... I don’t know, what?.. Maybe an excellent jeweler. Or an advertising designer. Or a brilliant car technician whom people will travel across town to see and line up for...

Or, in the end, perhaps the company he works for will organize internal sales training for its employees...

So what is the “moral of the story”? In my view, it is not only that professionalism can be acquired with experience — in cold sales as well. Nor only that it is worth choosing one’s work with some regard for personal predispositions: character traits, motivation, and the inclinations and abilities that are naturally present — built into us.

After all, the subject from the beginning was boundaries.

My boundaries — the boundaries of the person who received the call and, frankly speaking, was subjected to an attempt to impose a service. His boundaries too: because he is forced to violate mine and those of anyone he calls, since at present his job requires it. And he, like any of us, senses this on some deep level — the fact that he is intruding on someone else’s territory. In the slight discomfort he may feel before each call or at the end of a work shift. In that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, perhaps, as he dials the next number in the automated customer-calling system.

It is well known, after all, that even the most hardened aggressor senses deep inside — with a sixth sense or some other sense — these “vibrations of boundaries”: their own, which they so shamelessly inflate or tear apart as they intrude on another person; and the other person’s boundaries, which they destroy, shift, or crumble...

And what, in that case — when boundaries are overextended or destroyed — remains for all of us? For everyone who took part in it? On both sides.

A residue. Like sand between the teeth. Or in the eyes. An unpleasant aftertaste that prevents us from enjoying the “taste of life.”

Another interesting thought occurred to me: often, in most training sessions, even if we consciously work with the nonverbal layer, we very rarely touch on things such as smells, for example, or tastes... Yet this signaling system is the most ancient. And I wondered: what kind of aftertaste does this way of dealing with boundaries leave? And what does it smell like?

I have a dream: later, a little further down the road, to create a training session about this... But I will write about it later too.

For now, though, I will return to the beginning: I felt comfortable because I had established those boundaries. A small thing. Though I would not say it was insignificant. I would even say it gave me resources. And I thought: this is exactly the sort of boundary-setting with which one can begin a training course on creating boundaries in one’s own life.

Why do you need this? Perhaps to feel strong. Joyful. Entitled to “have the right” — thanks to the classic for that wording. Perhaps so that, after exchanging just two phrases with someone on the phone — routine phrases for both of you — you suddenly feel a surge of energy and unexpectedly get to “hold in your hands” a small thing that can awaken the desire to act and to live.