My grandson Jakey calls for his mama early in the morning to take him to the potty. Three years old, he recently graduated from his crib to a ‘big boy’ bed. As a baby, the sides of the crib kept him safely in place with his wobby and small assortment of favored stuffed animals. Yet, now free from the confines of the crib’s wooden barriers, he remains in place, unwilling to venture to the bathroom on his own which he takes great pride in doing all day long. He’s free but doesn’t know it. He’s now in a cage of his own making with the door wide open.
My daughter, affectionately pokes fun at her younger sibling and his wife, calling Jakey’s reluctance to get out of bed on his own the Stockholm Syndrome, citing their delay in buying him a bed as the reason for his behavior. Whatever the reason, the reality is we all create cages of our own.
We give up our power to our self-imposed barricades, often unconscious of their existence until we suddenly crash into them with the realization or perhaps frustration that we lack momentum or mojo in our lives. It is then that we have the opportunity, the choice, to finally come to terms with the fact that we may, just may, be holding ourselves back from living the life of our dreams.
I have a cage of my own that I have fortified with excuses and false legitimacy for decades. Now in my third chapter, the beast is wailing and flailing and fighting to be free. Years of dutifully being a star pupil, good daughter, decent parent, successful businesswoman, published author, podcast host, I’m stuck in a narrowly confined space of my own making. Surrounding me are mirrors mimicking the public persona I’ve carefully crafted over the years. In these mirrors, I only see myself the way others do, and when I muster up all my will and determination to envision my authentic self in the reflection, the glass clouds over, preventing me from finding that woman and a vision of her future.
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