, , , , , ,

The kingdom of Free-dom is a rather strange one. It comes upon you like a sudden mountain looming over a plain, the big wave disrupting calm seas, the oasis in the desert.

I just got a B, in a class that I thought was easy, where I just didn’t want to put in the time. Other things seemed more important.  Other people will get better grades, be they more or less intelligent.  I don’t even regret the hours I spent in lecture surfing the internet, and that’s what scares me.

Whatever happened to the pursuit of happiness? What’s become of ambition? Should I flog myself with a wet noodle for not trying my best?

The best is yet to come.

And I do my best, all the time, in every moment. It’s just excellence that’s changed, since my mind is no longer in chains.

Society is something we can’t escape, and there are some commitments not so easy to break. But even as you go through the hum drum midway mediocre, unimpassioned motions, you are free. Not because you could walk away, and you don’t. Not because you still have the power to flee at any moment.

No, you are free because you choose to write the story of what happens to you.

You are free because it’s your choice whether yoga is an escape from grad school, or your real day’s lesson. It is up to you whether working life is grist for the poetry mill, a distraction from your real calling, just a way to pay the bills, or your reason for being.

I would suggest that any justification that begins with some variant of “because i have” or “make the best of it,” is misguided and naive at best.

Why am I staying on this path? Because it’s not actually that important to me. Because I’m not going to find meaning in some perfect constellation of external circumstances. Because I think it’s a good idea, and I believe me.

Maybe it’s only in the practice of discipline we find freedom (cliche), maybe it’s in boredeom we find passion (better), and maybe it’s when we are out of control, we finally stumble upon our style.

The more I tried to adjust myself, to make myself able to support this life, the more I realized there’s so much more to it all.

Yes, it’s a means to an end. No, it’s not that meaningful in itself.

You know how I know that? THIS is meaningful- this blog, all my scribblings, the fact that my soul’s on fire and I’m writing poetry again, this is great stuff.

I could walk away from what I thought was the best path since at the moment it’s not satisfying, but then I’d just be searching from satisfaction from without again. And my circumstances will surely change in a few months.

I’m not in love with travel, with my once-boo, with school, with work, with anything (ok maybe speaking French), I’m not in love with poetry, or blogging, or writing, or even talking to a counsellor, or yoga. It’s not the healing process, it’s not the creative path, it’s somehow KNOWING there is more than this.

Somehow, in absence, I know there must be a Presence. Without a plan, I see cause and effect. Without effort, I know bliss, reward, heaven. All those other things- effort, sin, sweat- didn’t get me there. But somehow this does, this moment of purgatory that is the best proof of future glory I’ve seen so far, however it comes or not.

When I say things that don’t make any sense, I know I’ve spoken the truth, for once, for a change.

And maybe now that I’ve admitted that my heart and soul isn’t into every second of the day, that sometimes it only comes out with the full moon, high tides, wind blowing, dead of night, I can just relax and have fun. Life’s a beach after all.

So yes, I’m free-to seek to find to force to yield. And I choose, instead of flight or fight, to simply be, for the moment.

Not to feel guilty I’m not hysterically goal-setting, planning, blaming myself for ever second I’m not spent wrapped up in a task.

Nope, I’m going to read my book totally unrelated to anything useful (though those things are the most important), hang out with my friend, clean my room because it would be helpful, and chillax.

And when the time for action comes, I’ll take it.

Not inspite of myself, but because of me.

Free-dom is a strange kingdom, but I don’t think I’ll be leaving any time soon. I don’t really want to drink the kool-aid that will send me back to the rat race, in it but not of it isn’t so bad, and it’s by standing on my own shoulders on the earth I peer best into the clouds.