My Body Is A Cage

My Body is a Cage is one of my favorite Arcade Fire songs, the quiet ending to my favorite album of theirs. I particularly love this video, which grafts together this lovely song with classic monsters I hold close to my heart.

This song speaks to my soul in a similar way that Shine On You Crazy Diamond, part one by Pink Floyd does. It speaks of feeling trapped in circumstance, in a body that is limited and a mind that is fearful, as well as a time that is unnerving to live in. This is a very personal song to me for all these reasons.

“My body is a cage that keeps me from dancing with the one I love, but my mind holds the key,” is the resounding phrase in this song. It’s the base wisdom Arcade Fire wanted to share: mind over matter, or courage can conquer fear and free us from the things we allow ourselves to be tethered by. I’ve noticed that I tend to put myself in situations that question the truths I’ve decided for myself: what does it mean to show true loyalty, honor, or love? I know my mind holds a key that can unlock all the doors I’ve closed to myself; however, a seemingly untappable level of fear tends to prevent me from trying to even grasp that key.

“I’m living in an age that calls darkness light; though my language is dead, still the shapes fill my head.” This line is particularly powerful to me because it reflects all my feelings about growing up in a world ruled by money, corporations, and schedules rather than companionship, compassion, and personal growth through exploration. When I think about how I think the world should be, I feel like I believe in irrational, utopian ideals—painfully untouchable, shameful to even want. But, still, I feel that reality in my bones anytime I consider getting a job or applying for a credit card. Our current truth seems so fraudulent and insulting to our intelligence and true potential as humans. It’s heart-breaking.

“I’m living in an age whose name I don’t know; though the fear keeps me moving, still my heart beats so slow.” These lyrics, man. Living with that desperate fear for survival, working to the point of exhaustion and illness, hoping against hope year after year for something better to happen in the world to create some relief is soul crushing. It’s terrifying to realize this is our reality—the system we built for ourselves. It’s a world of complementary agony: in some places, there’s the constant grind for income; in others, there’s the constant grind just for food or medical supplies. We’re always hungry, and that hunger keeps us from looking to the bigger picture of our lives, of our existence.

“I’m living in an age that screams my name at night, but when I get to the doorway there’s no one in sight.” For me, this line is about expectations versus intuition. I frequently get this panicky feeling that tells me I’m not doing enough, or I’m not far enough in life according to my age; but when I turn to that part of my mind and ask it what exactly it wants me to be doing, there’s sudden silence, a dark pit of fitful loneliness. I occasionally get flashes of what I think fulfillment and happiness might look like for me; but it fizzles so fast, it’s like grabbing a handful of fog—it’s gone before I can begin to comprehend it. However frustrating that feeling is, though, I yearn for it regularly and reach out to it every time it arrives.

I feel like this song speaks the truth of many bleeding, bruised, and broken souls who don’t feel like they have a voice of their own. Often, I feel like one of those people; though writing this blog has helped me find my voice again. Even though I get consistently frustrated at the world we live in, I hold constant hope in my heart that things will soon look up and in; and we’ll find a new purpose to living: a purpose that doesn’t involve pointing fingers or victimization. I hope soon, as a whole, we will become interested enough in the idea of just existing that we will use our technologies and brilliant creative brains to help each other out and try out a new way of life—something much more harmonious and, possibly, sustainable.