Sunday, 25 March 2012
As usual having an email exchange with my good friend Becca of Mutterings fame, she, as she invariably does, set my thinking going again about my situation. And this time with an analogy. Of a cage. Becca noted that, “I think that you have so much of you locked away that Rhiannon will always find a way to get out of the cage.”
I thought about it long and hard and with one exception this life does feel like being held in a cage. I feel like I live in a carefully defined small space designed to trap me in and to hide away what I really am. The cage has a big lock that can’t easily be opened. The weight of expectations keeps it firmly shut. Mrs A. Family. Work. Friends who want the best for me. Society.
There is one really important thing that a cage is designed to do. It is to trap and confine the inhabitant, restricting their freedom. But I said that there was one exception with this particular cage. The exception is that unfortunately, I made the cage and its locked from the inside. I let the scary monsters back me into it. And so afraid of them I was, that brick by brick I built it around myself. Shielding them from seeing what I really am. Then, when I’d built it, I added the biggest lock to it that I could find, so that they couldn’t see me and they couldn’t know what I was doing inside.
When they stop patrolling outside the cage, aren’t looking or are asleep, I unlock it carefully and sneak out. I run free. Happy. Hopeful. Squealing with pleasure. And just as they are about to spot that I’ve escaped, I quickly creep back, in the hope that I never get seen missing. Sometimes I think they’ve noticed, but fortunately, for a long while, they haven’t. They think that I have stopped unlocking the door and escaping. They believe that I’m sitting in my cage being happy, content that I’m enjoying my life. They surmise that I now take pleasure in my new cage-life. But I don’t. I really don’t. I hit my head against it everyday. I cry that I am trapped. I wish I could knock the walls down. But I built it really well. Really well. And I’m not sure that I’m strong enough to demolish it. Or that if I did destroy it, whether the monsters would devour me anyway once I got out.
There is no prince or princess coming to rescue me. Its just me. I need to change the story. I need some strength and some bravery to face the expectations and the monsters. I need to bust free of these confines. I need to take hold of what Becca says and find my way out.