We are all so busy finding something, that we forget that something has found us.
I have longed for freedom all my life. In moments of deep yoga, or faraway sailing towards the horizon, I felt freedom. I stopped looking for it. I had momentarily arrived.
These days, I have felt trapped. All that goes against my usual free-spirited notion of freedom has been upon me. And yet, something beautiful arose from these murky waters.
As I was watching a butterfly break through it’s cocoon, I realized no freedom comes without a fight. No joy without the sorrow. No elated happiness without the dark depth of sadness and pain.
And so I sit, floating on my newly discovered, still fragile freedom – detached from the ocean, detached from my yoga mat. Like the butterfly drying my wings, before my first attempt to fly.
And one last thought. What when that day these still moist wings will flap along my sailing boat? Two freedoms coming together. Elation!? I might well take off then… but for now, grounded. Grounded freedom in mortgage business and the like.
From a stuck nomad, an anchored sailor, a hippie with a loan and a mother with a ways too free soul