I had a dream of me viewing the inside of a birdcage. This one was different. The door was open, but no pretty yellow songbird inside. Someone is trying to rattle the cage, but the bird already left. Gone. Without a trace. In fact, no remnants of a bird – no seed, feathers, excrement. Inside, there was no swing. Instead, there were tiny 1” x 1” metal compartments starting on the bottom of the cage, going left to right all the way to the top. And, where the birdcage was slanted on the sides and the top, there were some that were a small slice, yet still a compartment.
The part of making changes is that I built my life around these compartments, cutting off pieces of me to fit the desired construct of another. Each of them carefully constructed were the equivalent of all the people who had voiced a complaint, criticism or “how I needed to be…, or stop being so …., you’re too …., you are acting …, you’re just like your sister …, why can’t you be more like …, Geez you’re so….” Then there was the looking down the nose and over the spectacles, judgments handed out like flavored tums. I’m Italian and our family was huge, with friends and acquaintances of Italian, Hungarian and Polish origin. I also had a lot of friends growing up, in school and work. There were a lot of compartments in my birdcage. I spent years confined to a construct from the opinions and projections that others formed.
The hardest part about my birdcage is that I’d been conditioned to think I had to be a certain way for people to understand, accept and befriend me. Recently, someone at church posed the question to me, “why do you keep coming here when no one likes you and you are unpopular?” My response: “I’m under no obligation to make sense – to anyone.” And, “If you’re attending church because you need to be popular, then maybe you need to recheck the real reason you’re here.”
Another lovely man asked me, “Are you an alien?” Now, I will tell you, I did ask for God’s wisdom and discernment before responding with a comedic sideshow. However, it was difficult to maintain my composure of seriousness: “Well, (heavy sigh), you caught me, I’m visiting from another planet to advance your culture. You see, the mother ship landed about 500 yards from here (pointing in a direction) and I was chosen to be deployed to come to Earth School, one of the most difficult and challenging parts of my soul’s evolution is to advance your culture. The worst part, I had to put on this earth suit. These outfits are so high maintenance (rolling my eyes). They need washing, primping and shaving to keep them in shape. And they have these organs that require an elimination protocol, to be used every so often in a porcelain hole in a place called a bathroom.” His eyes got as wide as saucers. Figured, I should probably stop. However, he didn’t let it go. But, I kept walking.
Unfortunately, during a stressful time in the past few months I made a bad decision. My ego really needs to be kept in the basement, behind a very heavy wooden door, with a thick metal slide, padlock and heavy chain. The mail slot can only be big enough to pass food through, and maybe a small window at the very top with bars so that a conversation can be had. The ego, although wanting to protect and serve (I’m envisioning a German Shepherd), needs to be kept in check as it can be harmful and reckless if left untamed and unfettered. I pushed the envelop too far.
The lack of a bird in the cage showed a breakthrough, a release and a letting go. The breakthrough was coming and it couldn’t be stopped. What I realize is, I will not die from the opinions of what others think of me, no matter how cruel and unpleasant. No, now I will die a natural death. I am free now and although I will have times of backsliding, overcorrection and overreaction, I’ll still be healing. Might take a lifetime. I might not even completely finish healing until I get to heaven. But, I’ll keep moving forward.
My Mom sung the lyrics of a song to me, when she realized my gifts: “You got to make your own kind of music, sing your own special song, make your own kind of music, even if nobody else sings along.
”I’ll cherish everyone that that was a teacher, well, except for maybe one. He was my hardest lesson and my hardest goodbye. His life in prison without parole will be short lived. They call that Gods grace and merciful forgiveness. Don’t think for a second that you’ll be able to escape your demons in the same manner.
PC: Petrovv
