Going shoe-shopping...is freedom.
Walking home on a street I am safe on...is freedom.
Hunching over my laptop, not knowing what to write on Hive...is freedom.
Later, I'll snuggle in my nice, soft chair, under a blanket, and munch some cake, and laugh at a stupid TV show, and that's freedom,too.
Hippie-dippie, yuppy crap.
I know. I used to think so, too. But there's also a part of me that's always loved this Romanian saying that tells you to craft Heaven of what you have. To me, it was never about ceasing to strive for more. It's about remembering your time here is but brief. And before you define happiness as some million dollars in the bank, or a holiday home in Martha's Vineyard or whatever, you know, take a moment to realize you might not be there next year, next week, next hour to enjoy that promised happiness.
I do believe happiness takes a thousand tiny drops a day. It's not in one big go, how could it be? We're transient beings, ergo our definition of happiness is also transient. So the big thing you reach for today might disappoint you tomorrow (if you're still around), and how many big things can one reach for before his hands fall off in exhaustion?
It's a constant exercise, this thousand drop thing. It's in our way, whether by nature or nurture in this crazy society, to focus on the bad rather than the good. To fall in love with misfortune, and bemoan our fate, rather than, in one sweet moment, embrace the silence.
Sometimes, the biggest freedom you get is just that...ten seconds of silence inside your head. It's fucking astonishing. And, I'd say, a worthy goal to toil towards. As worthy as that six-pack, or that master's degree. Trust me. I have neither.
So I've been playing this gratitude game, only calling it something else. Of course I'm grateful for the good things in my life, but it's not happiness I'm after. Not at this age. Not at this point in my life. Not on this planet, maybe.
It's freedom.
As one very dear to me said, freedom is paramount. One of the five things that will see you through this life, and in a world so bent on oppression and censorship, definitely one of the more endangered treasures. So let me play with you a while, and maybe you'll play with me, some.
Today, freedom has been cold coffee. Because I can leave my cup where I want (not to mention have it in the first place), and it will still wait for me when I get back. Today was free of the building collapsing, of war coming my way, of fire enveloping the neighbourhood.
Today, I got to spend a couple hours phone-free and thus distraction-free, and focus on my novel. Deep in book three. Freedom was also getting to feel sorry for one of my characters, and playing music that fit his situation really loud.
Today, freedom was smiling at the lyrics to this song. At the way Ren says "Toblerone". Freedom was also kinda wanting a Toblerone and knowing I could go across the street to the store to pick one up.
For a long time in my life, I thought freedom was this great big thing. But no. Freedom, like us, is transient. Fluid. It changes as we do, and no, I don't mean its definition. Freedom can be in looking up at the open sky, but also in buying yourself a nice treat. It can be planting flowers for the spring, and smelling linen fresh out of the wash. Freedom isn't any one thing, rather, it's in everything.
It's in me.
I'm free, but also,
i'm freedom.
But as long as we don't realize that, as long as we keep thinking freedom is in some magical place, in the custody of some grand archmeister, we're never gonna be free.
Setting me free? I don't think you can.
We keep expecting someone else (or some thing else) to set us free. God. Addiction. Music. Shopping. Extreme experiences. Sex. Love. All, ideally, at the same time, because what's better than one thing setting you free? A bunch of them, at random times, in different ways.
Nah-hah. Think about it. What's the common denominator in all those things?
Me. I'm setting this ship free.
Whether it's through music, food, sex, running, laughing, rolling in the grass, singing into the sky. It's me, baby. It's always been me.