Trapped

Trapped

She felt trapped, trapped in a gilded cage that was her life.

Her making though it was, she wasn’t sure how to escape.

What was the key to freedom?

Where was that key kept?

How would she find it?

Would she ever?

She felt trapped.

Who was she after all, even if she knew that would it make a difference?

Would she be able to live differently?

Would the resistance to change be too great?

Was she too lazy to make the effort?

Was she too afraid of who she might find she really was?

How would she ever know unless she began to make the changes?

Firstly to be still, to stop the constant wandering, both of her mind and spirit.

Then to become at peace with herself, to begin to like who she was right now.

Not who she hoped to be sometime later, but who she was now, right now.

Could she do that?

Even if it was just one step, one small step at a time.

Could she look in the mirror and see her Spirit, battered and wounded yes, but her true self.

Not  focus on the body shape.

The lines that life had etched upon her face.

The eyes that held the stories of the years. 

But  allow herself to see her Spirit, who she truly was inside.

Who she could be if she allowed herself.

Was that the key to this cage, to find her Spirit, to begin to love herself as she was, even while she was still held tight inside?  Maybe it was a place to begin.

So she did, she looked.