Invisible Fences

Driving past the lawn with the little yellow flags around the perimeter, I knew another “invisible fence” had been installed. Poor dog. What looks like an open and free yard is now a deceptive cage. His new collar will teach him where not to go with electric shocks or vibrations and, if he is like most dogs, he will make peace with the imposed limitation.

We are not much better than the poor dog. Although we feel like we live open and free lives, there are invisible fences waiting for us all. I am not sure who installed them - parents, teachers, or events in life - but they were installed along with collars, and we have been making peace with our cages ever since. Each time we get close to an edge, we feel the shock or vibration and we pull back.

Just ask the obedient child who tells a “family secret.”

Just ask the wife who shares she wants to go back to school.

Just ask the banker who tells his colleagues he writes poetry on the weekends.

Just ask the church-goer who questions a theological doctrine.

Just ask the son who wants to admit he's gay.

Just ask the artist who wants to have an art show.

Our collars come is all shapes and sizes, as do the shocks that compel us to fall back in line. Most of us decide the potential freedom is not worth the discomfort, but that's the price for new life: discomfort. We must reach the point where the “yard” is not enough, when the promise of new life outweighs the pain of getting there. I know, that’s easy to say, the shocks and discomfort are real, but so is the life that lies beyond.