A few years ago, I was lying in bed. I couldn’t sleep and had this relentless thought, “I know why the caged bird sings.” In my mind, it's there in the middle of the night, just screaming at me. “I know why the caged bird sings.” It’s a nice thought. It doesn’t hurt...and some thoughts do hurt, but this is a pleasant thought. It’s calming and almost reassuring. Eventually, I fall back to sleep, but the thought doesn’t go away because when I wake up, it’s right there greeting me as soon as I open my eyes, “I know why the caged bird sings.” I think to myself, maybe I need to write about this caged bird...but it sounds familiar. My trusted confidant Google tells me that it IS familiar. It’s the name of the autobiography of the late great Maya Angelou. So now I’m motivated. I felt like Dr. Maya Angelou was talking to me from beyond the grave while I was semi-unconscious, and when Maya Angelou speaks to you, you listen.
I don’t know why the caged bird sings. How could I possibly know that? But I can imagine why the caged bird sings.
I imagine that being in a cage strips this bird of real connection. I imagine this bird can’t be the bird that it wants to be behind bars. I imagine this bird envisions what life could be like if it weren’t trapped. This beautiful bird (the bird in my mind is vibrant, colorful, and a sight to see) is somehow less beautiful in this cage.
It’s not as magical when we see it in the cage. Now imagine this same bird flying across the sky. That same vibrant and colorful bird now looks like a miracle instead of a prisoner. So maybe the caged bird sings because it’s all it has left. It sings because it’s clinging to hope in a hopeless place. Maybe the caged bird sings because it remembers that singing cannot be taken away. Cage this bird- but it can and will sing...
But oh, imagine the songs it would sing if it were free. I imagine the melodies would change.
I don’t know why the caged bird sings, but I empathize with this bird. I watched my vibrant spirit take some hits in my own cage. I couldn’t get out. I was trapped, becoming a less beautiful version of myself. I was in a hopeless place, clinging to my last little bit of hope, and I wanted to die. Now, this is not to be confused with I wanted to kill myself; I didn’t, and I’ve been there before. I just didn’t want to exist anymore, at least not like that. I didn’t want to stand by as the last little bit of my spirit crumbled. I didn’t sing inside my cage... I WROTE.
I wrote my pain, my sadness. I wrote to heal myself. I wrote to remember the things I was grateful for because the things that tore me down were winning, and that didn’t seem right when I had so much to be grateful for. I wrote to forgive even when apologies never came. I wrote to find peace... and I did.
Day by day, I planned my own Shawshank Redemption. I chipped away at the people, the things, the entities that had caged me. It didn’t happen overnight. I faltered, I cried, I spent time in a psych ward, I called on my people, and then I pushed them away. As the bars to my prison started to come down, there were moments when I panicked. Fuck this freedom, this is scary. There were moments when I didn’t think I was ready, so I put back up the bars I had worked so hard to pull down. It was a battle, and I was the only one fighting it.
I kept telling myself that everything was gonna be ok, and I really wanted to believe that. But how can a caged bird trust that everything will be ok? They’re caged, after all. The caged bird sings because their song can escape the prison. It slips right through the bars. That’s how writing made me feel. Even though I was trapped in my mind, job, and relationships that were not worthy of my energy, when I wrote, I was free. Empathy and Eyebrows laid the foundation for my freedom.
I’m no longer looking to chip away at the bars; it’s time for a full-on demolition.
I am stepping out on faith. I am ready to commit to chasing my true purpose, happiness, and freedom. I believe in myself and know what I have to offer this world. It could pay me millions, or it could pay me nothing... as long as I am never put back into a cage, either is fine.
Don’t wait for your freemon. Take it.