"But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
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
Last week was a tough week for me. I took the week off to do some things that needed to be done on the farm and had a list of other things to do on my time off--both some fun things and a few things that I haven't had time to do over the summer. Turns out I felt pretty crappy the whole week and only accomplished about 20% of the things on my list.
Come Friday, I was feeling fustrated and angry at myself for my astounding lack of accomplishment. When I sat down to write the next post in this series, I couldn't bring myself to write anything.
I found myself thinking about the bloggers I know who have life altering chronic illnesses. Not one of them writes about their illness or how difficult life can be. Instead they write about beauty, the things that inspire them, they write about their freedoms. Looking at the ruins of my dreams for the last week and thinking about those bloggers, I was reminded of the poem, "I know why the caged bird sings." It is a poem that has meaning for me on several levels. I hadn't really thought of it being related to chronic fatigue, but it seem to fit how I felt at the end of last week.
The options were to beat my head against the iron bars of fatigue in despair or to open my mouth and sing. I can chose to sing, even if it seems I am standing on the grave of dreams. Even if it feels like my wings are clipped and my feet are tied. Because even in the cage, there is space to sing. Because even when the bars are black and life looks grim, there are beauties to celebrate, freedoms to rejoice in.
I do know why the caged bird sings and why her song is a song of freedom.