Skip to main content

What is freedom?

  Never has freedom been explicitly defined. It is one of those things that comes to us in a moment and leaves us feeling light and unfettered. But, what does it mean? I am not one to believe that things in life are subjective, but those things that I can't hold to a moral bound I can label subjective. This is one of them.
  I follow this kid on Tumblr. In 2005, he decided to ask one question, "What does freedom mean to you." Since then and still he has collected responses from presidents, actors, athletes, and what the rest of us consider ourselves: the ordinary. And, when I read one of these cards, I try to ask myself that question but get stuck.
  This week a friend, on FaceBook, posted this quote, "The only way humans have ever figured out of getting somewhere is to leave something behind." Instantly, this quote struck me. I can't stop thinking about it. But, I haven't been thinking about it in a physical sense, but more in a sense of personal direction. I don't see myself leaving Tulsa any time soon...if ever. But, what about those things I have been clinging to for comfort?
  Some moments I feel so close to flying, and some moments I feel the weight of the world. Where is my heart, mind, soul, and body? Are they free? Am I free? If not...what is holding me back? In my last post, I mentioned a boy. Hasn't it been about a boy for the last long while? Yes, but shouldn't it be? If I am coming closer to the idea of the vocation of marriage, isn't part of my vocation finding that boy?
  The scary part: this one likes me more than I do him. He even knows it; has even admitted it. I don't find this a bad thing. In fact, I find it very refreshing. I find it scary as hell but nice. In the past, I was the pursuer. But, with him he calls me the fish and himself the fisherman. This is all new territory for me.
  So is the freedom in the leaving behind of something to find the somewhere else? And, is that somewhere in the heart of someone else? Ugh! My heart has been hurt, and with the slight wall I have constructed around it, this one scares me. My forever isn't to be given to just anyone.
  I have begun to scare myself thinking so long and hard about "dating" this one. I scare myself because I am in that place in my life where I am looking for the forever...and so is this one. Time will tell. The fisherman says he is going to keep fishing for the fish. I told him there were millions of fish in the sea; he says he only wants one.
  The question isn't whether I am ready for freedom. The real question is if I am ready to leave behind something to gain that freedom. What's to leave behind? "Will he ever come to his senses and love me like I loved him," my heart says. "Silly, girl," my head responds, "If you have to wait, you will be waiting forever." Oh the conversations of those two. Perhaps the heart and head will sprout wings, flap in tandem, and help me fly...if only to find my freedom.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Beneath the Weeping Willow

  "The willow submits to the wind and prospers until one day it is many willows—a wall against the wind. This is the willow's purpose." —  Frank Herbert, Dune   Time, although a very evasive concept, is in each moment a gift. And most often, I don't stop to look back at the road I have traveled on. Even more so, the road Justin and I have travelled together. But today it is warranted. Today marks 9 years as husband and wife, and 9 years of truly some amazing and adverse moments. We have lost the most cherished and birthed the most loved all the while interwoven with each other.    I will be the first to admit that our day to day appears to some: mundane. However, inside the ordinary he and I together have understood the profundity of love. It is brash and loud, but it is also cautious and quiet.  "Love is a many splendored thing."  It is the true basis of community, and I am proud of the community we have built.   The  willow  is the t...

Being his girlfriend

"Are you happy being my girlfriend?" He asks. In all seriousness. In all honesty. He asks. Never once have I been asked such a damned difficult question. Never once have I been asked that slight simple question. Never once have I been asked THAT question.   Immediately, my head goes a thousand different directions. I want to give him the most honest answer. But lately I feel as though I am trying to quantity my happiness. Yes. I. Am. Happy. But what is happiness? Am I? Can I honestly say that I am happy? I don't know.   Before I make an ass out of myself, I must say this: not one time in the history of Aly and men has she ever felt like her significant other was shelter. You know that line from Finding Nemo where Dory says to Marlin, "When I look at you, I remember. When I look at you, I am home." That's the way I feel when I am in his arms. Home. Perhaps it best not to tell him such a bold thought, but it's true.   Back to this question. Am I happy b...

Seconds

  I always tried, growing up, to see if I felt different in certain moments of time. Such as when the clock strikes midnight on my birthday or when it strikes midnight bringing in a new year. Does that one second really feel different? No. Not usually. And that one second isn't truly that significant. But seconds can be significant. In fact, in one second our lives can be completely different.   For the last few months, 6 perhaps, there has been more overwhelming hatred for 2016. It has proven to be a very hard year. I have seen the death of my grandmother, the death of others dear to my friends, rape and murder scattered throughout this world like salt on a wound, natural disasters leaving thousands dead, and the tipping point of a nation that can't seem to get it right.   And as I wax nostalgic, I cringe at the bad, shake my head at the dumbfounded, but then remind myself to embrace and celebrate the good. Because in the midst of all the not good...there is good. The...