cages

A friend gave me some paper napkins/serviettes recently. I liked the colours - not the sort that I would usually use but I liked the combo of the sage green and mauve. The elements here are from a napkin designed by Kathryn White.

The flowers drew me in first so I stuck on a few of those. The birdcage is not my usual style, but I really felt I needed to place one on the page.

I started to think about what it would be like to be in a cage. The first thought is that the cage is a place of captivity. But is that really so? It could also be a safe place; a place where everything is known; a place we can withdraw to. A bit like our comfort zones, really.

So is a cage a place of safety or captivity? I think that all depends on whether the door is locked or not. If we can emerge from the cage at any time of our own choosing, then it is a place of safety. But if we are locked in, doesn't that eventually start to stifle and chafe? Doesn't the anchor become chains? Aren't we then held captive?

Do you hold the keys? Or is your comfort zone starting to choke you? Is it time to step out and stretch your wings a little?