The bird that stayed in the open cage

Thoughts on maturity, freedom and sunflower seeds
There are people who need to close the door to feel at home.
There are others who spend their time re-opening doors because they are oppressed in a closed room.
There are people who panic when there are no walls.
Phobia of wide open spaces.
They are afraid that nothing can contain them, kiss them, limit them.
They're afraid of spreading, of getting lost, of evaporating.
There are those who have panic attacks if the cage is too small. Claustrophobia.
They are afraid that everything will suffocate them, that they will be attacked, that everything will become hostile.
They are afraid of disappearing, of dying, of being forgotten, of not being able.

There are others who always leave the door half-open.
They're not sure.

Seeing the exit is enough to calm some.
Knowing that it is far away is enough to make others anxious.
Believing there isn't one puts everyone in the dark.
Realizing that inside is already all that you could find outdoors means you don't have to worry about the place and the number of exits.

The door is the threshold of oneself.
There is home, inside, and then there are others, outside.
The interior space around you is only a decor, that of our intimacy.
We decorate it, we tidy it up, we make it our home (from mansio- to stay on Earth, to live). A safe space, a reflection of oneself in the world.

If the outer space, and therefore the others, do not reflect us, we fall back on the intimate space.
All minorities are confined in space. On the territory, but also in the rooms of the house that they do not live like the others.

The misunderstood teenager doesn't leave his room.
Even never leaves his bed.
The representations in force in the salon are in opposition to his convictions. He only leaves the room to go outside the house, out of the family. Without going through it, or rather by expressing its opposition to it in this way by a superb length of walls accompanied by a dragging of feet on carpet. It is rare to see him passing through the living room by his environment, if he can do otherwise. The same applies to all the places, places of exhibition, public spaces inside and outside the city.

The conquering businessman is everywhere at home. It inhabits every city in the world in the same way. The corridors he uses are, however, bordered with boundaries, just like everyone else. He never leaves his world. He never exposes himself to the other.

Our life routes are made up of attractions to others as well as avoidance of others. Every trajectory means something.
The perception of open/closed space, contents/container, plays an important role. Dark/luminous, safe or not, inviting or hostile. Looks like or differs from oneself. We only go where it is possible to identify ourselves, to recognize ourselves. When we go where we know nothing, the inner journey begins.

Even though we may move more and more, inhabiting ourselves remains a prerequisite for inhabiting the Earth.
Who is not inhabited wanders, here and everywhere.
Whoever closes the door of the cage but feels happy there like a pope has no reason to keep it open, then.
Those who love draughts don't need to close the door to reassure others.

Anyone who likes to fly outdoors and far away has nothing to do with the state of the door, because he is not there. We don't need anyone to keep a cage empty after all. Would his journey be as happy if the cage disappeared in his absence? All travel is outside of something, at first.
If the basic container disappears, return becomes impossible.
The stakes are changing. The journey becomes migration.

It is the meaning of what limits us and what frees us that changes.

The threshold is a place of invitation. A limit. A passage.
It is the interface between self and others, inside and outside.
In many cultures, social life takes place on the threshold of homes. Young people talk on the steps. Old people on the porches. On the benches, facing the street. You don't always have to invite the other person in to enjoy your company.

Freedom is not the bird that escapes from its cage to fly towards an infinite, blind and universal freedom.

It is also the bird that remains in the open cage.
Serene, aware of the vast world he has already explored, in which he knows he can return.
Comfortable with his inner limits, which he is aware of.
It is the experience of the other that gives him or her a space to live in, to clean up. A limited space.
We must not forget that we can also be locked outside.

NB: To those who, always slipping towards others, caught by them, need to return to their inner space and safe every day to keep the balance. To those who have gone away confident of their support and who have lost their bearings.