Some have asked about the symbolism in my last post’s poem. Others have commented on the last line as being their favorite. (It’s mine, too.) We all live in boxes, the boundaries set either by circumstances, obligations, finances, schedules, rules, the expectations of others, what we expect of ourselves, how we define ourselves and how we are defined by others, our place in a family, society or organization, the country we live in, the home we live in, the body we live in or the people with whom we live.
When boxes get too small, there are struggles to escape. I experience a lot of pain in my life because many of my boxes are too small, yet, when I try to get out of the tightest ones, sooner or later, I get hit with a “shoe” (usually it’s sooner than later but the ones that come later hurt more). The “other shoe” that always drops at some point is the fall-out or consequences of my attempt to flee a particular box. It seems to me (when I’m feeling down) that there is always one in wait to beat me back into my box—whatever box it is—causing me either physical, mental or emotional pain—or all three--in the process. It makes me quite gun-shy, paranoid, even full of anxiety. There are times when I am scared to leave a box, as tiny as it is, because the thought of doing so or even thinking outside of it is asking for trouble.
I was having a terrible fibromyalgia attack the night I wrote the poem so the comments from those who felt they could really relate to that kind of physical pain mean a lot to me. Plus, it had been YEARS since I wrote a poem, something that used to be my number one choice of expression, and it was lovely to get such positive feedback. Thank you.
On a lighter note, those who want a crack at this gorgeous fabric can find it, as well as some other fun auctions HERE. Feel no obligation. I have no wish to put you in a box. Have a lovely day!
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