Weekly Nugget: Feeling Trapped in a Job or Relationship? The Exit is Where You Are

Hi friend,

Ever feel like you’re in a trap? 
Like there’s nowhere to go? 
Like the odds are stacked against you?

It is interesting to see how many of us at one point or another feel like we are in a trap, at home, at work, in a relationship, and in a society. 

But what is a trap, really? A trap is not just a specific spot. It’s a perceptual space that limits one’s possibilities. 

So, how does one gain freedom from a trap?

Here’s the thing: When we try to escape a trap, we often run straight into a bigger one.

Why? Because the way of being that got you into the trap hasn’t changed. The mood that led you there, impatience, urgency, the need to fix or flee, is still operating. Same being, same habits, same narrow vision. 

And the world is a Trap-istan. There are traps everywhere. There is nowhere else to run. When we act out of desperation, we carry that desperation with us. You’ve heard it: Out of the boiling pot, into the frying pan. The jaws close again.

So what do you do when you find yourself in a trap, or a cycle of traps, with no exit in sight?

First, stop!! 

If you’re in a hole, stop digging. Don’t fight the ropes. Don’t rattle the cage. Befriend the trap. It’s yours. It’s not just any trap—it’s your trap. This is where you live now. You can’t go left? Can’t go right? Not a problem. Make peace with it.

Here’s the magic: When you stop resisting, your eyes adjust to the dark. You begin to see. You notice textures, edges, hidden handholds. Patience replaces panic. New assessments emerge. The trap becomes a crucible, a forge for reinvention.

Ilse Aichinger’s haunting story The Bound Man crystallizes this point. A man wakes to find himself bound head-to-toe in coarse ropes, immobilized. At first, he rages: Why me? Who did this? He thrashes, resents, and collapses into despair; the familiar spiral of victimhood. 

But then, a shift of perception occurs. He stops fighting the ropes. He studies them and tests their limits. Slowly, he learns to move with his bindings. He hops. He balances. He even dances. Villagers gather, mesmerized by this man who turns constraint into art. They toss coins, feed him, and marvel at his grace. The ropes never loosen, but they no longer define him. By the story’s end, when offered freedom, he hesitates. The bindings, once his prison, have become his language of agency. 

This isn’t just a metaphor. This is how to live with power. Say you find yourself trapped in a difficult relationship. A shiny new prospect appears—charming, rich, “better.” Don’t jump. Instead, sit with the ache. Let the trap teach you. See the nature of the trap you are in, and how you have contributed to it. The question isn’t How do I escape? but What is this revealing?

The right question to start with isn’t how to escape the trap. The right question is how to first experience freedom within the trap. 

From this space, deliberation is born. Clarity sharpens. Choices untangle. You start seeing traps not as dead-ends but as riddles—invitations to evolve.

Take your job that feels like a cage. You dream of quitting it, launching a startup, fleeing to Bali. But if you don’t own how you got here—your complicity in the grind, your silent compromises—you’ll recreate the same cage elsewhere. “Another toxic workplace!” you’ll cry, blind to the toxicity you carry. 

Freedom begins when you stop plotting escape and start creating new meaning right where you stand. Full acceptance first. Then radical responsibility—not blame, but the power to respond. Only then do new paths appear. 

A shifted mood cracks the world open.

With care,
Saqib