So I’m gearing up to make this epic journey across the country. I’ll be moving from Florida to Washington in February of 2015. But moving boxes are not what this post is about.
This is about the boxes we create in our lives. The ones we find ourselves in after so many years. Whether its the box that contains the parts of your neighborhood you frequent, or the box that holds the job you go to every day, the question I pose is: Do we create the boxes or do the boxes create us?
In other words, is my life dictated by the borders of the box, or am I too stuck to expand them? I mean really, sometimes the idea of driving the insignificant 40 miles to Tampa is a ridiculous notion! Who has that kind of time? And why are we gong there? Can I just stay home?
Why?… do I do that? Is 30 years of a life in this place enough already? Am I making a journey across the country for something that I could find here if I crossed the boxes borders? Or worse, that I may re-create the box there.
I wrote “or worse”, but is it really so bad to create that box of existence? Of the routines we build, the lives we manage? I think it is if we let that box define us. When we stop crossing the borders, enjoy new experiences or open our hearts and minds to a fresh perspective, it’s then that the box becomes confining, restricting, even paralyzing. Then, life looks boring, muddled, with no point of view, perspective or path.
That’s the box I’m in now. The one that says “you haven’t looked at anything new today” and “your days are carbon copies of every other day”. During the next few months I’ll be breaking through this current box, the one I’ve been in for 30 years. The one that can’t hold all my hope, any of my dreams, or half my excitement. Any more.