Cages and Wings

This summer I began to feel like this beautiful life I'd built for myself had turned into a gilded cage. I felt an immense amount of guilt when I beat my head against the walls of this lovely house I've lived in and loved for 15 years, railing at it for hemming me in. I finally stopped going into my big, lush garden to avoid the shame I felt at seeing my neglect evident in the thistles as tall the phlox and lilies, the creeping charlie winding among the forget-me-nots. And when I wasn't performing, the unthinkable happened: dust gathered on the harps.

I realize that when big epiphanies occur (like they did for me during and after Paris Trip #1), we can quickly become dissatisfied with our usual, blessed lives and the things that normally give us comfort.

There were a lot of new things I brought into my life to ease the feeling of captivity (purging my house, running for miles every day and reading book after book about France included). But I still longed for something...else...and couldn't quite put my finger on what that would be. Without a concrete plan or a solution in sight, "escaping the cage" became my motto.

The struggle was mighty at times.
(Delacroix's "Jacob Wrestling the Angel" - St. Sulpice, Paris)

And to be honest, it hasn't gotten any easier since returning from Paris Trip #2. It's just become more clear that something has to change. Unfortunately, more clarity about knowing that something has to change doesn't exactly mean a more clear idea of WHAT TO DO comes along with it.

But despite the lack of clarity, I do have hope. I have a rich, settled feeling in the very center of myself now that I'll figure it out. Small signs let me know that.

This, for one.
Feathers always show up for me when something
important is happening in my life
(Feather landing on my hand - Chartres, France)

And when I was getting a massage last week for my poor muscles that went straight from hauling luggage (over-packing is necessary when visiting the fashion capital of the world) to hauling harps, this conversation occurred.

Rose (my massage therapist): "You know those knots under your shoulder blades?"
Me: "Yes, they've evil."
Rose: "Well, they feel different this time.
Me: "Even more evil than ever?"
Rose: "It's weird, but it feels like they're turning into bone. Hey! Maybe you're sprouting wings!"

Yes, I have much hope.