
A strange thing happens when you move. Your entire life’s belongings are sorted, wrapped, and packed….in boxes. Amazing how insignificant all those cherished things seem to be when all cubed up, tightly wrapped in brown paper, cardboard, and tape. You can put anything in a box. Somethings go together and somethings are a disjointed conglomerate, unrelated and precious; and yet still stuffed in a box.
You can put anything in a box. How often have people put you in a box? How many times have you put someone there? How many times have you put yourself in one, just to feel safe? Life is neater when everything, and everyone, fits in a box. Especially, if the box is of your making. Simple, clean, orderly, tightly wrapped and tapped; everyone and everything fits.
An interesting thing about boxes; you’re not really going to know what’s in them until they’re opened. Sorta like Christmas, only the wrapping isn’t quite as festive. Every box is an adventure of discovery. Every piece of wrapping paper unveils special items and memories. Finding just the right place to proudly display the cherished item is the rest of the fun.
And so it is with us. Unwrapping and escaping our box; or, better yet, opening someone else’s box and letting their uniqueness be proudly shown for all the world to enjoy. Resist the efforts of those who would put you in any box. But more important; resist, with even more energy, your inclination to box anyone else, lest you be boxed along with them.
Now…back to the boxes; a Memorial Day Christmas; ironically appropriate time to remember and find those lost treasures.
Never Fear the Dream…..
