I've found so many things as I packed up boxes but the ones that stopped me in my tracks were the writings I had stashed in far too many boxes (no organization there!) in the eaves. Among them was this essay written when I was about seventeen or eighteen. I sat down to read it and was surprised by the philosophies I had. The first paragraph got me thinking:
Freedom: What Is The Pathway?
The American Heritage Dictionary describes freedom as "The condition of being free of restraints." Free is described as being "at liberty: not bound or constrained." Both of these definitions grasp only an outline of the actual meaning of the word. This is because each person has his or her own meaning for it, because freedom is an individual concept, in this essay, as author, I will be issuing my idea of it.
Humans can be divided into mind/spirit and body. To free ourselves of our body would be to free ourselves of the vessel in which our mind and spirit resides. Many people believe that this is freedom and some suggest that this means that death is the ultimate path to freedom.
I argue and state that, though without a body there is a sort of freedom, we are not restrained by purely physical forces and influences (i.e. our bodies and their limitations). So, death would only be a small form of freedom.
We are more restrained mentally and spiritually than physically. Our ideas are the lock on, as well as the key to, freedom.
It got me thinking about how I used to feel so much more empowered than I do today. Not that I am particularly unempowered but that I am not as enthusiastic about what will happen next and my ability to help create it. That anticipating- and the feeling that I could make things happen- sort of lagged. What a sad thing to find.
I remember that feeling of freshness every morning when I woke up, that "Wow- what will today hold?" and I was bursting with the excitement of it- even with my first child and then years went by and more children came and instead of jumping on board and finding adventures, I lapsed into a sort of lull in the enthusiasm department. I grew resentful of my lot, which, of course, I have the power to change. But I sort of lost my belief that I could change it. So, I sat there and whittled away the days mourning the lack of adventure, where, once, I would have gone looking for it. Something simple, like a walk on a lovely trail or trip to a river or the ocean. Or- playing a fun game with enthusiasm and laughter. Even the simple things, held so little enthusiasm and I chalked it up to "This is adulthood, isn't it?"- and was so disappointed.
There would be those moments when I got it back, but there weren't ever enough of those. Then I made this shift, answering this call back home and things began to shift in my mind as well. Then, while packing up for this huge new adventure, I find myself reading something I wrote so many years ago about how limited we make ourselves through our mental and spiritual states and I think "Woah! I didn't really get wiser in that department as I got older. Hm, time to revisit my youth and grab up some of that enthusiasm and embrace the lack of cynicism."
So, I read it and read it (and edited it in my mind and wanted to take a red pen to some of it- but I didn't) and then I thought about the power that we all hold in ourselves and how often that goes untapped. I thought of all the people who drive forward with their dreams and manifest them. Then I thought of what I had manifested and what I want to manifest and suddenly it wasn't so hard to believe that I could do it.
Sometimes a little check in like that can remind us of what we knew in the beginning but may have lost, or forgotten, along the way.
It got me thinking about how I used to feel so much more empowered than I do today. Not that I am particularly unempowered but that I am not as enthusiastic about what will happen next and my ability to help create it. That anticipating- and the feeling that I could make things happen- sort of lagged. What a sad thing to find.
I remember that feeling of freshness every morning when I woke up, that "Wow- what will today hold?" and I was bursting with the excitement of it- even with my first child and then years went by and more children came and instead of jumping on board and finding adventures, I lapsed into a sort of lull in the enthusiasm department. I grew resentful of my lot, which, of course, I have the power to change. But I sort of lost my belief that I could change it. So, I sat there and whittled away the days mourning the lack of adventure, where, once, I would have gone looking for it. Something simple, like a walk on a lovely trail or trip to a river or the ocean. Or- playing a fun game with enthusiasm and laughter. Even the simple things, held so little enthusiasm and I chalked it up to "This is adulthood, isn't it?"- and was so disappointed.
There would be those moments when I got it back, but there weren't ever enough of those. Then I made this shift, answering this call back home and things began to shift in my mind as well. Then, while packing up for this huge new adventure, I find myself reading something I wrote so many years ago about how limited we make ourselves through our mental and spiritual states and I think "Woah! I didn't really get wiser in that department as I got older. Hm, time to revisit my youth and grab up some of that enthusiasm and embrace the lack of cynicism."
So, I read it and read it (and edited it in my mind and wanted to take a red pen to some of it- but I didn't) and then I thought about the power that we all hold in ourselves and how often that goes untapped. I thought of all the people who drive forward with their dreams and manifest them. Then I thought of what I had manifested and what I want to manifest and suddenly it wasn't so hard to believe that I could do it.
Sometimes a little check in like that can remind us of what we knew in the beginning but may have lost, or forgotten, along the way.
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