"Living
in a Box" By Jo May
(I
wrote this some years ago, and it was published in South West Connection. Quite
a lot of people said it spoke to them.)
I
wanted to write about the Human Potential Movement and Why People Do Groups and
What It's All About, but it's much too difficult to put into words. (In general
terms it sounds airy-fairy, and examples of other peoples experiences may have
nothing to do with yours.) So
instead, here's a story - Jo May
`She lived
in a box with no way out. All she could see was four walls.
One day
something awful happened - the box got a knock which dented one of the walls.
Now her comfortable darkness was disturbed.
In one
corner was a tiny chink of light. It worried her like an itch. Day after day she
kept poking at it, excited by the pain in her eyeballs. And as she worked the
chink bigger, so her box changed. She became aware of its colours, shape and
textures - and also that it was a trap. Unable to stay or get out, she got
frantic. The chink enlarged and she squeezed out.
She lay
panting and blinking. Everything was different and she felt afraid. If only she
were safely boxed. She looked back. The box looked disgusting.
She found
she could breathe. Her head filled with the scent of sweet grass, dappled colour
and birdsong. A gentle current thrilled her to the core. Time passed and she
learned about the colours, smells and sounds, and also about the ways of the
creatures and people, who sometimes gave her pleasure and sometimes pain. She
learned to fit in. And she made them fit. That way there were fewer unpleasant
surprises.
So soon she
was back in a box - a bigger, more varied and beautiful box, but still a box,
with walls as far as she could see. She would have stayed happy, only having
already escaped once, she knew something was missing. Nothing out there was
totally satisfying. She got miserable. People avoided her because she began not
to fit.
And then
something Totally Unexpected happened. (The thing, place, persona, belief, part
of her body she valued most disappeared.) Her world shook and cracked its walls.
The more she struggled to hold it together, the more she could see only cracks,
and the bigger they grew, the more it hurt. So she let go and it all flew apart.
When the
pain, dust and tears settled, things still looked the same, except she didn't
have to fit them into anything any more. They appeared as they were and that was
Totally Acceptable. She didn't have to fit anybody else's box either, and that
felt wonderful.
And the
more good she felt about herself and about the others, the less she tried to fit
and fit in, and the more she filled with a sense of oneness. And so the world
became less like a lot of boxes and more like a circle.
(Jo May)
http://www.caer.co.uk/index_files/Living%20in%20a%20box.html
Updated: 2/11/08