by Alan Wartes
JAILBREAK! It’s a good bet that if
you were to shout that at the top of your lungs in the exercise yard of the
nearest penitentiary, you would instantly have the undivided attention of every
inmate within earshot—and all of the guards, for that matter. You wouldn’t have
to stop and explain what you meant by the word, because everyone on the inside
is well aware of three important facts:
1. They are in jail.
2. They would really like
to break out.
3. They know where the
exits are.
In other words, people who
know they are inmates are already tuned to the frequency of freedom and poised
to leap when an opportunity comes along. But what would happen if you did the
same thing at the food court in the mall? In your office building on Monday
morning? At church next Sunday?
First, you’d certainly get
a lot of blank stares. Then, after a moment, the shocked silence would give way
to a kind of sarcastic amusement. Check out the nut job. How did he get in
here? She really should take her medication.
The point is, it’s nearly
impossible to inspire a jailbreak among people who a) aren’t aware of their
imprisonment; b) don’t believe it is possible to live any other way; and c)
wouldn’t know which way to run in any case.
This assessment isn’t
meant to be condescending. The fact is, it applies to nearly everyone—and
describes an engineered ignorance and a conditioned ambivalence. Like ordinary
prisoners, we are all under the influence of a thousand “corrective” forces
each and every day designed to mask the truth.
And it works—sort of.
True, we might be among
those who would mindlessly scoff at someone shouting jailbreak at a Fourth of
July parade, but deep down we know something is not right. For most of my life
I have experienced the sensation of being caught in an elusive trap I can’t
quite see. I feel it most clearly in moments of fear, defensiveness, anger,
lack, guilt and hopelessness. In times of stillness and silence I can almost
see past the bars on the windows and smell the fresh air of the free world
beyond. In this, I am certain I’m not alone.
And it is nothing new. People have
felt this way forever.
The Persian poet Hafiz
wrote:
There
is an invisible sun we long to see. The closer
you
get to the present, the brighter and more
real
it will become, even at midnight.
To
the poor slaves of this world with their
eyes
chained to coins and unforgiving, the
wondrousness
of the firmament can cease to lift
your
head and impact your manners.
What
wing would not become depressed within
a
snare, if that wing still has some spirit in it,
and
all your instincts want to taste that
stratosphere
above the known?
“Open
the door or die. Unlock the cage or die,”
my
master would say to me, when I was young.
(version by Daniel Ladinsky)
This deep hunger to be
free is why stories of hope, connection, forgiveness, liberation and unconditional
love are so powerful. These are messages carried on the breeze that offer proof
of a better world out there. They stir the heartsick suspicion that this other
place—this other way of being—is our true home.
And so it is! We are all
free and rightful citizens of an abundant and joyful existence. A whole new way
of living is ours for the imagining and the taking. There is no power able to
stand between you and this fact.
Except for one: Your own thoughts
and beliefs.
As you may have guessed
already, these are your true jailers. These are the walls and the steel doors
and guard towers and the men with rifles who patrol them. You and I are inmates
in our own minds. While some others certainly exploit this fact and coerce us
to stay put for reasons of their own, there is no force on earth capable of
keeping us there—but us.
How do we imprison
ourselves? In complex ways that boil down to a stubborn refusal to see three
simple truths:
1. We are made to be
free—and are free the moment we decide to be.
2. There is a new and
excellent world waiting on the other side of that decision.
3. The exits are located
everywhere. Anywhere. Pick one and go.
Until we see and believe
these things, we are destined to die in captivity—because we will never venture
to open the door. I, for one, am tired of the prison yard. Who is with me?
And we haven’t got a
moment to lose. This jailbreak is the only way through the evolutionary crisis
humanity has now entered. Our deeply flawed and constraining belief systems
have led us to a moment of tremendous challenge—but even greater opportunity.
Gut-wrenching work and
possibly scary times lie ahead. But if we find the courage to see differently,
think differently, live differently—to unchain our eyes from “coins and
unforgiving”—then nothing can stop us.
Welcome to the (r)evolution.
Let’s get started.
I'm with you! I can see the open gate, meet you on the other side. Good Luck....
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