bars

I think a lot. I wish I would stop. But while I was thinking, I was thinking about things I do that make me feel ‘safe’.

E.g. looking at what others are eating in order to give myself permission to eat

This doesn’t keep me safe because it denies me my ability to respond to what I need when I need it, it disempowers me, and it actually keeps me stuck. But, for some reason, my brain believes what others are doing is a necessary piece of information. I can’t be bothered to go into the nuance or the reasons etc but this blog shares something of what is happening biologically.

Anyway, I had this image of a bird in a cage. The bird has been in this cage a long time. The cage is familiar. Familiar can be comforting. The bird has heard that outside of the cage, life can be dangerous. So it stays in the cage. In the safety. Where it knows what to expect.

But the bird can see out of the cage, and it sees other birds passing by. Some are flying, some are feeding, some are nesting. There do seem to be threats out there, but most of these birds are living a varied and free life.

The bird in the cage begins to wonder if the safety might be a bit boring. If the supposed threat might not be so bad. If it might be better to get out of the cage. But doing so is absolutely terrifying. It is unknown. It is choosing to do something unknown instead of something certain. There is risk. But there is release.

I feel like I have got out of the cage, or at least got close to leaving, a few times then dashed back in for safety. But nothing frustrates me more than letting myself down by retuning to my self-made prison. I hate it.

I want to get out. A bird can’t be fruitful or purposeful or friendly or fed without being in nature. It will find trees and hedges to protect it, because there is a God who protects and provides. Even when it inevitably dies, it does more good for the world in living- however briefly- outside of the cage than it could while inside (by pollenating plants or fertilising the ground etc, as opposed to living in a cage, dying in a cage, and ending in a bin).

Do you have a self-made cage of comfort? Life behind bars might feel safe, but name it for what it is: a prison. It could be money or food or drink or family… I don’t know what it is. But is there something telling you it is keeping you safe but with a poor track record of really satisfying or helping you? Could you take a risk and leave it behind?