"It's A Small World After All" Episode One Hundred Six(video)

Welcome to Honor Your Truth

The “Is It True?” Series Episode One Hundred Six

“It’s a small world after all”

I took everything out of the fridge, including the shelves and the bins. I wanted to see if I could fit inside. I seem to have a habit of doing performances that involve smushing myself into a small place and finding a way to break free. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to get my whole body in there and shut the door. Getting out would prove to be another quandary if I were in fact able to accomplish the task of getting in. One should always plan an escape route on the front end in situations like this. Just as I was about to close the door on myself, it occurred to me. What if I can’t get out?

I could have suffocated due to a lack of oxygen that day, but I didn’t. Lucky me because it surely wasn’t smarts that saved me. No matter how loud I yelled or how much I pounded no neighbor would have ever heard me. Fortunately, my sanity did return. I remembered accounts I’d heard of wandering souls, just like me, trapped inside fridges in basements and alleys. I took a breath and came to… holy cats! What was I thinking? As the memory surfaces, I find it harder to breathe. Claustrophobia has never been my thing.

I could never have rocked it from side to side, in hopes of tipping it over, so maybe the latch would bust open. My fridge was wedged into a box of its own. It was nearly impossible to move it, even from the outside. There was no room for me to scoot back and brace myself to kick the door open. I could wriggle something sharp between the magnetic seal causing it to loosen, that is if I could find something sharp. I could turn the temperature down if I was too cold, but eventual I’d shiver. The predicament would have left me no choice but to chill and to chow.



Unfortunately, in order to make room, I took out all of the food… the leftover dinner, the cheese and the beer. Somehow I can’t see myself enjoying a meal entirely composed of condiments and such. My last supper would consist of Sriracha, Woebers’ horseradish sauce, sweet gherkins, Annies Goddess dressing, Door County Real Maple syrup, strawberry jalapeño jelly, pickled asparagus, Kua Khaub Poob Qab Heev(curry paste), Tuong Ot Sate An Pho(ground chili garlic oil) and a variety of olives. What a feast!

I’ve put myself in box, in a bag, in a plastic tub, in a garbage can (I put my little sister in one too for a show) and in a wardrobe box for moving clothes. I continue to put myself in situations to get out of… to break free from prisons, real or imagined. I always find a way out, but still, I am afraid. I was forced to transcend my fear of the fridge while at work. I am in and out of the walk-in all day long. The walk-in freezer is another story.

I am fearful of the fluke, there are flukes of many kinds. Getting locked in a freezer is one I wish to avoid. I will not. I repeat, I WILL NOT go into the walk-in freezer without a chair wedged in the door. I know where everything is and I grab it real quick. I hold my breath as I go. I make sure no one is lurking anywhere in the vicinity that might want to play a joke. I do my best to sneak in and out in secret. It’s best for me if no one knows. I control the situation with my little friend the chair… or if it’s gone, I use the mop bucket.

I want to fit in somewhere. I want to be accepted. It’s not so good to mold yourself, to mask yourself, to hide. No one really asks me to. It is me who thinks I must in order to get what I think I want or to hold onto what I think I need. But I’ve come to discover that the “real me” rarely ever wanted what I fought so hard to keep but lost. It is only my small ego that has been willing to pay the price of living a lie and of not honoring my truth. I think I can control what happens by being who I think I should, but it never works that way. The only way to find what I am looking for is to be truly who I am. Only then will I find what I yearn for deep inside. I no longer need to squish myself to fit into a box that is often of my making. I Honor My Truth!

Love

Debra
The Honor Your TruthCommunity