Tziki and Banjo

When I was a teenager I stole two kittens and never gave them back.

It happened on a Tuesday afternoon. We heard a pitiful wailing from the road and followed it down to find two tiny cages dumped under someone’s house. Stuffed inside, so tightly that they couldn’t move, were the kittens.

We took them out, left the cages, and carried them home. I can still remember how light they felt, and to not squeeze them.

After a good feed we were all of us laughing and giggling. The kittens were scuttling about in the most hilarious way, their legs folded up tightly and bellies dragging on the ground. The cages had made them forget how to stand!

After two days they unfurled into a semi-crouched bounding that was delightful to see, and then it was over. They stood up fully, kicked out their legs a few times, and that was the end of it.

I think people are the same.

Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually – we get stuffed into tiny little cages. Crushed, oppressed, deprived, and belittled to fit within a shrunken world. Then one day the container breaks, or someone opens the lid, or maybe we dig our way out through the shit – like Andy Dufresne.

We envision liberation to be instant and fully-realised… but I think most of the time it is delayed. After the lid has been lifted, and we’re finally safe, the version of the cage that we built inside ourselves might take decades to heal. During that time we may find ourselves repeating the same painful scenarios (please watch this brilliant video). It’s best not to scuttle about like Tziki and Banjo for too long. So:

Jump the fence, sprint for the horizon, and yell “Hell!” at the top of your lungs! Spear a flounder and roast it amongst the mangroves under a full moon. Dance in the sandy dawn and let the shadows of your steps be the calligraphy of fleeting bliss.

If you are free, as not all are, then be drenched in freedom. Swim in it, drink it, breathe it into your belly. Tattoo your heart with a never-forgetting of that feeling of wild freedom!