Get Back in Your Cage

//Get Back in Your Cage

Get Back in Your Cage

My little boy begged me to buy him those pet birds. Knowing that pet birds in the hands of a five year old were probably not long for this earth, I bought the smallest and cheapest birds the pet store carried, Zebra Finches. The birds, as it turned out, seemed quite affordable until I realized the birds also had to be caged, fed, watered and medicated. Finally though, we had birds in the house and my little bird lover was satisfied.

A few days later, from my office on the main level I could hear shrieks of joy coming from just above me on the second floor as my five year old and his sister squealed. Curiosity got the best of me and I made my way upstairs to find the noise was coming from the master suite and that the door was closed. I pushed open the door to investigate and there sitting on the glossy black finish of the piano I saw the glossy black finish of the wire birdcage, doors completely open to the wild blue yonder of the master bedroom and the finches were nowhere to be seen.

A few days later, from my office on the main level I could hear shrieks of joy coming from just above me on the second floor as my five year old and his sister squealed. Curiosity got the best of me and I made my way upstairs to find the noise was coming from the master suite and that the door was closed. I pushed open the door to investigate and there sitting on the glossy black finish of the piano I saw the glossy black finish of the wire birdcage, doors completely open to the wild blue yonder of the master bedroom and the finches were nowhere to be seen.

The one house rule had been broken and the birds were flying freely. Josh and his sister, completely ignorant of their own limitations were trying to put the birds back into the cage. The two of them putting the birds back into the cage looked remarkably similar to one chasing after something that is hopelessly out of reach and giggling wildly. The words ‘barking mad’ come to mind.

Naturally Josh let the birds explore their freedom in the largest single room in the house. He probably thought that they would need those vaulted ceilings to be able to literally spread their wings.

Upon seeing my face the children’s delight became twinged with fear. It was kind of like that moment when you reach the crest of that first climb on a roller coaster; unmitigated joy mixed with “What have I done?”

The Only Option for Me Was to Jump in and Help Them.

The one house rule had been broken and the birds were flying freely. Josh and his sister, completely ignorant of their own limitations were trying to put the birds back into the cage. The two of them putting the birds back into the cage looked remarkably similar to one chasing after something that is hopelessly out of reach and giggling wildly. The words ‘barking mad’ come to mind.

Sadly though, in terms of technique, I had nothing new to offer. So I joined them in chasing and giggling and I looked, you guessed it, barking mad.

Unlike people, birds don’t casually sit on the commode with a copy of Investor’s Business Daily, thumbing through the list of new highs while waiting for the bran flakes to kick in. In fact, birds would just as soon, rather be flying around the room, swooping and diving at someones head while simultaneously answering the call of the wild.

I am sure it’s just me but if I didn’t know any better I’d have sworn that the tiny little bird intestines had become weaponized. Over the next little while the giggling turned into me shouting vulgarities at the little feathered creatures. The more aggressive I became the more intense the birds became as the y began to swoop and dive all the while screeching madly and utilizing their bodily functions in more and more creative ways.

Phoenix RisingAfter nearly an hour and in sheer frustration, I ushered my little bird lover and his sister out of the room and shut the door firmly behind me. In my head, I am making plans to have both the birds and their crap removed from the house. Who do you even call to have your own pets exorcised from your bedroom. I can’t kill the birds. I need someone who can carefully catch the birds and put them back in to their cage. Any other options risk scarring my children for life.

I change my clothes into something that is more defecation friendly and I go and get a fishing net from the garage. Finally I enter the room in a pair of old black sweats, a ski mask and decidedly non matching golf gloves. Armed with a stinky green net at the end of a three foot aluminum pole, I look like a cheap, Halloween version of a navy seal sneaking into a little known compound in Pakistan.

I carefully scour the high ceiling letting my eyes gently glide from rafter to rafter when all of a sudden I see motion coming from the glossy black cage still sitting, wide open, on the center of the glossy black piano. There is no fear, no screeching or swooping or diving no aerial moves of any kind, in fact, no flight at all. The birds are sitting silently side by side on the perch of their open cage. I maneuver stealthily across the room. Am I so good at this that they truly don’t see me or could it be that they don’t care. Yeah, they’re looking right at me. They see me, but safe in the comfort of their cage they aren’t afraid any longer. They don’t care. I simply close the cage doors first the big one and then the small one and they don’t even flinch.

Finally it occurs to me that, inside the cage, is where the birds wanted to be all along. All of the fighter pilot moves and carefully aimed feces dropped on me and my room was not an attempt to escape but rather an effort to get back into the cage. We spent the entire hour fighting against each other trying to accomplish the exact same goal.

Quite often in our trading business we make the mistake of following our instincts. We have been taught from birth that in order to accomplish our goals we have to work for them. To have what we want we must do something. In the business of trading this is a fallacy. Traders do NOT get paid to trade. Traders get paid to wait. We plan a trade, put our planned trade into motion and then wait for the trade to execute either for a gain or a loss. In trading, as well as indoor bird chasing, there is a direct correlation between the amount of feverishly active work you engage in and the amount of vulgarity you use.

There is rock solid reasoning behind the truism that the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. The fact is that we all find more and more of what we look for. While some traders book profits from the same trading set ups again and again, others lose money by making the same mistakes again and again. Simply stated we all return to our own cages. If each of us is left to our own devices we will find a way to do the same things we have always done. If what you are doing is making you wildly successful then fantastic, keep on doing that thing. If however, your own devices are not working for you then you have got to get a different cage.

By |2018-07-17T21:59:21+00:00August 20th, 2014|