There’s a phrase that we use when we’re describing something we consider new and fresh and unexpected.
We say it’s “out of the box.”
The problem with the phrase is that when something or someone is judged to be in our out of “the box,” it reveals that “the box” is still our primary point of reference. We’re still operating within the prescribed boundaries and assumptions of how things are supposed to be.
“Out of the box” is sometimes merely another way of being “in the box.”
And then there are those who come from a totally different place.
The ask another kind of question:
“There’s a box?”
….
If we went to the ballet and everybody in the audience was wearing snorkels or the musicians were all red-haired banjo players with no teeth or instead of being handed a program we were handed a squirrel, we would immediately begin asking: What is this?
But our real question would be, Where is this? Where do we put this? How do we place it? Because our standard reference points - the usual insulators - wouldn’t be there to guide us.
That’s often what happens when we suffer. We had things well planned out. We knew what meant what. We had all of our boxes properly organised and labeled. But all of that was disrupted when we began to suffer.
So there’s “out of the box,” which is often merely a variation of the same thing. And then there are those who think and feel and live and create from a different place. They’ve had their boxes smashed and their insulators dismantled until
They had no other option but to imagine a totally new tomorrow.
Pg 22-23, 28, 30 of ‘Drops Likes Stars’ by Rob Bell.
