Freeing the Caged Bird

“The caged bird sings with a fearful trill,

of things unknown, but longed for still,

and his tune is heard on the distant hill,

for the caged bird sings of freedom.”

― Maya Angelou

Sometimes freedom looks like feeling the 40mph gusts passing through your hair while the road is closed to big ass vehicles like the one you're riding around in.

When I was 16 my goal in life was to move to Canada after college graduation and then on to Spain where I would spend half the year on a research vessel, my planned career path was marine biology, and the other half of the year lounging in a hammock in the sun, taking long naps, and doing freelance nature photography.  Fairly unconventional compared to what my family wanted me to do with my education, but I loved the freedom that my plan would give me.  The ability to make it up as I go, not tied down or beholden to the expectations of others.  I didn’t want homeownership, and while I wanted children, motherhood was something that I said either happened before 25 or not at all. Motherhood happened two years later, and I rewrote all my plans to include this new human I was responsible for.  I planned on a degree in a “safe” field - education- that would allow us to have the same schedule so we could spend our summers free.  Then life pivoted again, and again, and again.  Before I knew it, the goal post of freedom had been buried under the words safe, smart, and ordinary.  

The best way, I figured, to deal with chaos and dysfunction was to create order and safety in all the areas I could.  I held on to the things that were vitally important, like homeschooling, and tried to mold those things around the spoken and unspoken expectations of what a “responsible” adult does in our society.  A couple of years before my divorce, after listening to my then-husband lament about how much he hated his job, I put forth the idea of selling our home, getting an RV, and traveling the world with our kids.  He could use his GI Bill money to go to school virtually for IT and then work remotely once he finished school.  We could travel until we were sick of it and then settle somewhere that felt right for us and what we wanted out of life.  His response was, “Are you fucking crazy?”  In the moment, I felt defeated.  Looking back, what I should have said was, “No, but this hampster wheel that has lulled us into submission is definitely making me that way.”  He had a million and one sound logical reasons why we couldn't or shouldn’t do something so out of the ordinary. I eventually let it go; there was no point in arguing with reason as the walls of what society said I needed to do to be a good wife, mother, and productive member of society slowly inched ever more closely around me.  

We’re all in a cage, some more glided than others, but cages nonetheless deliberately designed to keep us too afraid to open the door.  We try to make our cages pretty.  To quiet the wild beast that lives in all of us.  We collect trinkets of capitalism in hopes of filling the void left by our stolen freedoms.  Or worse, we join forces with the architects of our cages to deny others what little bits of freedom they have so we can feel better about how much we lack.  

Even after my divorce and into my current marriage, my choices were fueled by those same words that made the walls of my cage feel so close: “safe, smart, and ordinary”.  I found little ways to try and maintain some sense of freedom and humanity, but I was always reminded that I needed to not be too much or it could cost me the ability to provide the “safe and ordinary” life for my kids that I was desperate to give because I believed that was what a good mother did.  At all costs.  Even if it meant trading in who I wished to be because love is about sacrifice.  Then my mom died and you fuckers put that orange goblin back in office and I realized that I was letting the thoughts, opinions, and unfulfilled aspirations of fucking asshats dictate my life and my view on what makes a “good, responsible” mother and member of society, and a “proper” well lived life. When faced with the reality that death is always waiting and comes for most of us far earlier than we want it to and my own children’s post-election questions of “now what,” I decided to open the door to our cages so we could fly free.  We bought an RV, put our well loved home on the market, and set out to see what the world had to offer.  

The decision was terrifying and resulted in far too many long nights and early mornings mulling over the logistics, but ultimately, I simply had to leap and have faith that I, and we as a collective, are far more capable than our cages have led us to believe.  As we’ve embarked on this journey, barely two months into what will likely be a few years, I’ve received a number of inquires that have this undercurrent of “I wish I could”.  We spend so much of our lives wishing for freedom, talking ourselves out of opening the door to our cages, and surrounding ourselves with others who will help keep us so busy we stop seeing the bars and only see the neatly decorated calendar hanging from them.  We’re all playing a game with rules written by those who wouldn’t piss on us if we were on fire, while being absolutely terrified that they’ll be the ones to burn us in the end.  But what happens when we stop playing by someone else’s rules and make up our own?  What sort of lives could we build?  What type of joy could we taste upon our lips if we drank from the cup of collective freedom?  

What sort of life would you build for yourself if the limitations that exist were removed?  Would you still work the same job?  If not, what would you do instead?  If yes, what would you change about how you currently work?  Would you keep the same hours and the same set of responsibilities?  In what ways would you want to grow and expand if fear was removed from the table?  Who would you be if you designed your life on your own terms and not the terms and conditions thrust on us simply because we exist at this junction in time?  More importantly, why are you letting fear stop you from laying the groundwork for the life you want?  We don’t all want the same things out of life, but we all want the freedom to determine what our one short precious life can be.  It is absolutely fucking terrifying to do anything other than what has always been done, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t dream and work toward what a life well-lived means for each of us.  Take a chance on yourself.  It’s going to be uncomfortable; you may have to go without some of the trinkets of capitalism if they aren’t in alignment with where you want to be in the future, but it’s worth it.  

Bet on yourself and those you want to build a life with because tomorrow isn’t promised, and today is nearly over, so why waste what’s left living in a cage?  

They need us caged, so open the damn door and fly!

Copyright(c) 2025 Rayven Holmes