Cage

Cage: (n) a structure of bars or wires in which animals are confined

Even though Maya Angelou seems to know “Why the Caged Bird Sings,” I, myself, do not.

I believe in the power to overcome negative circumstances, but such an endeavor always takes a toll.

A loss of simplicity.

A leaking of faith.

Some intangible that departs the soul because we struggled too much to maintain normalcy.

There are three cages.

Undoubtedly, one is the cage we build inside ourselves to limit our passion while justifying such a move by having lengthy explanations to quantify our fears. We’re never able to adequately interact with others or fathom why they would be interested in any person like us–locked up.

There’s also the cage right beyond our space–a barrier we’ve created that says since we’re a father, mother, religious, addicted, black, white, brown, gay, straight, male or female, we are not going to be able to cross the bars of that enclosure and enter into a larger hemisphere of fellowship. We try but we pull back in horror, fearing that the barricade is electrified to discourage our noble effort.

Then there’s the cage that is somewhere out there. We don’t know where it is. We can’t see it. It’s the boundary of our limitation. We don’t speculate on what it may be, but instead, explore all terrain until confronted by the wall. Perhaps we can avoid it. Yes, maybe we never have to reach the edge of our understanding and ability.

So in the meantime, we can pretend that we’re powerful.

 

 

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Boundary

Boundary: (n) a line that marks the limits of an area; a dividing line

You own the property of the boundary of your skin, with a lease for life.Dictionary B

Only under special circumstances am I allowed to come inside–and then with limited access.

Learning boundaries is really that simple.

Any time I cross your property line, I must do so with a courtly request and an adequate delay, to allow you the chance to determine whether you welcome my visitation.

Whether emotionally, spiritually, mentally or physically, you are truly the master of your own contents.

If we would learn this, realizing that even comments which are tossed off in the attitude of jest are little pieces of trespassing on the sovereignty of another human being, we would not only avoid unwarranted conflicts, but would also open the door to be respected by others who recognize our integrity.

I look for the boundary.

I look for lines in the sand people create which are not necessarily common–just personally requested.

I don’t always end up on my side of the fence, but more often than not, because I err on the side of caution and realize the righteous position that each one of us possesses of our own domain … I become the friend instead of the foe.

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Border

Border: (n) the edge or boundary of something

Is the purpose of a border to separate us from the people we hate?Dictionary B

Or maybe we don’t hate them–maybe we have convinced ourselves that they’re just so “different” that they need to be on the other side of something.

And then if that line doesn’t work, we can place guards to protect our border from aliens invading us.

But what if the guards aren’t efficient enough? We’ll need some sort of fence. After all, you know the old saying: “Good fences make good neighbors.”

But what if the more athletic adversaries learn how to jump our fences? We will certainly need a wall.

But God knows they are industrious enough in their thinking to fly airplanes over our walls and land on our turf. So we will certainly need to stop them at the airports and determine whether they are one of us, look like one of us, and will fit in with the rest of us.

This is going to take a tremendous staff of well-trained individuals who are able to identify the non-us.

And how limited should we make that vision?

Should it be based upon personality, color, attitude?

And we certainly can’t forget religion. We don’t want infidels coming in to infiltrate our spiritual utopia.

It seems that in no time at all we will need more people keeping other people out in order for us to enjoy being who we are.

And then comes the final fear:

What if the people already here are just very good at hiding their predilections of being foreigners?

 

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