Box: (n) a container with a flat base and sides, typically square or rectangular
Actually I despise them so much that I scold myself when I use them.
- “You’re stupid.”
- “I hate you.”
- “You don’t get it.”
- “You’re a foolish asshole.”
Well, I could go on.
But one of my least favorite–a thought that makes my skin crawl–is when people turn to me and say, “Tell me a little bit about yourself.”
I know they’re really not interested.
I know they’ve sized me up and they’re trying to figure out what box they want to put me in.
They want things simple.So they have a system of storing people away so that their decisions are neat, tidy and final. If you don’t fit into one of their boxes they will decide that you’re a misfit or a rebellious anarchist.
They’re listening for buzz words.
About ten years ago, someone asked me about my occupation. I explained that I was a writer but also a performer. So they said, “Are you a teacher? A storyteller? A philosopher? Or an entertainer?”
Then they smiled, waiting for me to climb into their box.
My response was, “Well, really all of those and more.”
This was displeasing to them. They shook their head and walked away.
Mankind is ready to build a box for you.
They will encourage you, praise you, instruct you, guide you and applaud you until you get inside one of their pre-prepared cartons.
And once you do … you will never be heard of again.
Jonathan’s Latest Book Release!
PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant