Is an Aspiring Bodhisattva Allowed to Have Boundaries?

In a relationship, can one exude boundless compassion while simultaneously setting healthy boundaries? As an intent dhamma practitioner and an inherently caring person, I have anxiously deliberated this complicated issue when torn between my aspiration to act selflessly in service of others and the desire to act on behalf of my embodied self. While the former feels more in line with buddhanature, in my experience it can often result in being taken advantage of or manipulated by those I love the most. And while choosing the latter provides more security, it can just as easily lead to doubt, guilt, and worry about my own kindness, generosity, and motives.

For me, this emotional reaction, although far less intense now, has a lot to do with my childhood conditioning. Growing up in a dysfunctional family, with self-absorbed and emotionally unregulated parents, I was not aware of the concept of personal boundaries. Since the needs of others almost always took precedence over mine, I started considering the needs of my parents to be an extension of my own. Not only did they grow to expect this, but I also learned early on that this was the surest way to receive their attention, affection, and care.

Scanning their faces and urgently fulfilling their spoken and unspoken wishes became my unconscious strategy for filling the gaping hole in my own heart. But the satisfaction was always fleeting; the deep yearning to feel a sense of belonging and to be loved unconditionally by them continued unabated.

Then, about twenty years ago, I came across the striking image of a calm, gentle woman in flowing white robes—bodhisattva Kuan Yin. Something about her utterly captivated me; I eagerly searched online, and tears rolled down my cheeks as I read her description: “the embodiment of boundless compassion, she is known to hear the cries of the world and protect anyone in trouble.” For perhaps the first time in my life, I felt I had a mother figure I could count on. Someone told me that the mantra Om mani padme hum was like a personal hotline to her; whenever I chanted or listened to that mantra, I felt securely held. She became my refuge and my role model. 

The trouble was this further accentuated my unhealthy, unconscious people-pleasing tendencies. Now, I consciously started believing self-care was selfish and that I must always put others first, under all circumstances. 

It has taken many hard knocks, repeated emotional burnouts, several troubled relationships, extensive study of various scriptures, and deep reflection and contemplation to craft a healthier, interpersonal working principle for myself—one based on right view and right intention. And it is still a work in progress that continues to be refined by my lived experience every day. 

My biggest breakthrough was something that should have been quite obvious but eluded me for far too long—the realization that the embodied person I refer to as “me” is also one of the sentient beings I am meant to cultivate boundless compassion toward! I too deserve understanding, loving-kindness, compassion, and protection. It is not selfish to use the finite resources at my disposal—physical, emotional, mental, and material—to look after my personal needs, as long as I generously use them for the well-being of others too.

The idea of caring for my own interbeing is reflected in the Anguttara Nikaya, 5.41:

“… there is the case where the disciple of the noble ones … using the wealth earned through his efforts and enterprise … provides himself with pleasure and satisfaction, and maintains that pleasure rightly. He provides his mother and father with pleasure and satisfaction, and maintains that pleasure rightly. He provides his children, his wife, his…servants, and assistants with pleasure and satisfaction, and maintains that pleasure rightly. This is the first benefit that can be obtained from wealth…”

The second major challenge has been learning to maintain my balance, while walking the tightrope of personal and professional relationships, in the flux of daily life. Extending compassion too far in either direction—serving my personal needs versus those of others—can both lead to a fall. Nonetheless, each fall provides valuable data for self-reflection, helping me self-correct, align my attitude with my deeper values, and walk further along the rope. 

Over the years, the falls have become few and far between, and I am able to negotiate my way with greater self-assurance. Wise reflection is my balancing pole on this tricky rope. Whenever I feel the rope under me sway from the weight of expectations—my own or those of others—I pause, pay attention to prevailing external and internal conditions, reflect on relevant teachings, and do my best to regain equilibrium and equanimity before lifting my foot to advance. 

During this process, I ask myself several clarifying questions so that I can channel my compassion wisely:

• What is truly being asked of me in this situation? Is this my own expectation? Is it a valid and realistic expectation?
• Whose needs seem more important right now—theirs or mine?
• Who is likely to suffer more if their needs are not met?
• Do I have the ability to extend myself for another person right now? If not now, will I be able to do so later?
• Even if I believe I lack the emotional or physical resources to look after someone else at the present moment, can I arouse the requisite energy for this purpose since it will benefit another? 
• What is my motivation for extending or not extending myself for another person? Is it based on loving-kindness and compassion?

Depending upon the nature of my confusion and the specific context, I may bring to mind relevant dhamma teachings for further clarification and inspiration. The Vinaya Pitaka of the Pali canon has many lessons on the monastic codes relating to caring for others in the Vatta Khandhaka, Collection of Duties. Three passages I often look toward when I am feeling uneasy about looking after my personal needs versus those of others include the following:

“… if one is able and willing, one may look after the needs of the elder bhikkhus in the sauna (e.g., stoking the fire, providing them with clay and hot water). If one is able and willing, one may look after the needs of the elder bhikkhus even in the water (e.g., scrubbing them).” Sauna Duties, Cv.VIII.8.2

“… if there is alms food, and the mentor wishes to eat, give him water and place the alms food near him. Offer him drinking water. (If there is enough time before noon, one should wait by the mentor while he is eating, in order to offer him drinking water, and eat one’s own meal only when he is finished. If there is not enough time for this, one should simply set out the water and proceed to one’s own meal.)” Pupils’ Duties, Cv.VIII.11.2-18

“… a resident bhikkhu, on seeing an incoming bhikkhu who is his senior, should prepare a seat. If the resident bhikkhu is making robes or doing construction work, he should stop it to prepare a seat, etc., for the incoming bhikkhu. If he is sweeping the area around the chedi, he should put away his broom to prepare the seat, etc. The incoming bhikkhu, if smart, should tell the resident bhikkhu to finish sweeping first. If the resident bhikkhu is making medicine for a sick bhikkhu, then if the sick bhikkhu is not seriously ill, stop making the medicine so as to perform the duties of welcoming the incoming bhikkhu. If the sick bhikkhu is seriously ill, finish the medicine first. In either case, the incoming bhikkhu, if smart, should say, “Finish the medicine first.’ ” Resident Bhikkhus’ Duties, Cv.VIII.2.2-3                

The teachings encourage us to use right mindfulness and right effort so that we may determine the right course of action in each moment. We must carefully consider when to extend, whom to extend toward, and how much of ourselves to extend. Each situation requires us to meet it with a fresh, open, and compassionate mind, extending our care in all directions—outward and inward—so that we can try to meet the needs of all those concerned, including ourselves, judiciously and to the best of our ability. 

Nevertheless, practicing this is not easy when we encounter someone who displays rude, aggressive, arrogant, or self-centered behaviors, with little to no consideration for the well-being of anyone but themselves. Is it appropriate to draw a hard boundary in these circumstances? Shouldn’t we practice forbearance, tolerance, patience, and forgiveness at such times?  

Without healthy boundaries to enable self-preservation and allow self-care, it may be difficult to cultivate the steady stream of energy that is required to walk the path

The short answer to both these questions is “Yes” and “Yes.” The long answer is a little more complicated. Boundaries are about balance imbued with lovingkindness through right view and wise reflection. While not always pretty, boundaries can be a way of showing those around us the fierce compassion they need to truly course-correct, while also extending that same loving tender-heartedness towards ourselves. While this can feel extra necessary as a means of dealing with certain overbearing personalities, it can also generally be seen as right view and stepping into your own power; and as an act of deep love for the world around you and, simultaneously, yourself. 

Dipa Ma was once asked what a woman should do if she was harassed on the street. Dipa Ma said, “You establish loving-kindness firmly in your heart, and then you take your umbrella and you strike! Firmly—right on the top of the head!”

So, yes, I believe an aspiring bodhisattva is allowed to have boundaries. In fact, without healthy boundaries to enable self-preservation and allow self-care, it may be difficult to cultivate the steady stream of energy that is required to walk the path.