Let’s talk about freedom.
He and I, we, the we that was a beautiful ‘us’…spent many days on the beach. One of the topics that came about while I was watching the city lights line his face that was darkened by the rest of the night and the movement of the shisha stick as we waved his hands about in explanation. Freedom. What is freedom? How do we define it?
We never reached a conclusion as such, but from all the words we filled into the bag we always found ourselves in, it seemed like freedom is what we think freedom is. Like every other word, it is relative, and like every concept it is more relative, more self defined perhaps than most other words.
Freedom, is defined by us. There are limits every where…and who sets these limits? Limits to our homes, relationships, the cities and towns we live in….we drifted round the topic….for us, at that moment, freedom from the confines of the city, lay in the beach, where we could see no end to the world. There was still a limit to how far out into the sea we could go. But those boundaries felt more distant that the obvious boundaries within the city, where there were only so many things we could do, only so many places we could go.
Now he’s not here, he never will be here again. And in the bag that I lie in, well, freedom’s definition stands just about the same. I am as free as I think I am. I want to say I am as free as I want to be.
In the earlier days when I had what was perhaps my 100th breakdown, she repeated those words that I find so full of shit. “we give you all the freedom don’t we?.”
Several scenes played in my head. I stood up and said ‘Fuck you!’…and walked away.
I stayed seated and said, “you must be one of the dumbest women I have met.’
The third scene is the one I decided to play out. “well clearly your idea of freedom is very different from mine. And that’s fine, but I cannot go on living like this.”
I am 22. I live with my fucking parent because they took all the money I had to begin life on my own, and possible pay 3 months of rent even before I got my job. Ok forget that, shit happens…shit happens….my freedom is defined by their insecurities and rabbit-hole fears. By their rights and wrongs, and their pathetic mind sets. In my mind, these boundaries are nothing. But in my attempts to maintain some sort of peace within these 4 walls I call “home” at the moment, their limited capacity for openness needs to be complied with to a certain extent, and in some cases to be dealt with elaborate, clever lies.
I wouldn’t have reached this conclusion all those months back when we were on the beach. I was too blinded by beauty and love to think too much. All I cared was about being there with him. And I within the limits set by stupid people, I was fine because at the end of the day I felt limitless with him….
He would beg to defer, I’m sure…right now, that’s alright.
Also, I hadn’t experienced the loss of a person that I chose to fully love, and not some one I was simply bound to love by blood.
My conclusion is that your are as free as you believe you are. And freedom is being able to exercise your will with out being limited by the confines others enforce upon you.
Therefore, in essence, all of us have limits within our thought, and even capabilities. I may want to fly, but I can’t because I don’t have wings. On the other hand I may see others eating an entire molten-chocolate lava cake with icecream, and I can’t do it, because in my head that’s too much food (& yes calories) to consume in one go and I would have had to starve the whole day to eat that in one go.
But both these limits are ‘okay’ in a sense because one limit is just a characteristic of being human and not a bird, and I could probably find an alternative (sky diving, anyone?) and the other is a limit I choose to have for my own sake. One is something I have to accept, and the other is something I choose to have. Thus, the boundaries set by these instances still allow me to be free. I make the choice and I pick the alternative. My freedom would be hacked when I am forced to not eat a molten –chocolate lava cake because some one else, perhaps of some lame authority that they decided to bestow upon themselves and the authority I played a long with, decided that it is too many calories for me to consume and somehow prevents me from having it. My freedom would be hacked if I was some sort of an angel and some one decides that they cannot have me flying about because they think it’s too risky, and they cut my wings.
I am 22. I have a long way to go, and a lot to learn, but I know enough at the moment to know that some people need to redefine their definition of freedom. Just because they cannot have enough self-discipline and let go of their pasts to see how much control they have over their own lives, and take the reins of their lives like self-respecting individuals they need to do everything in their apparent power to take control of some one else’s life.