Freedom

Once again I am sitting out on the verandah enjoying a beautiful sunny day.  We haven’t had a lot of these over the past month or so as it’s been overcast and grey – quite unusual for this region.  The sun is warm, the snow is melting, and there is a light breeze.  Louise, Molly and Thor are here.  It is a pretty quiet scene; even the normal country sounds seem subdued today.  It’s like everything is enjoying this reprieve from the early winter and just relaxing in the warmth of a still strong sun.  There is a certain peacefulness that comes with sitting on a verandah in the sunshine - a sense that all is well.

A short few days ago I was sitting in a room waiting for a meeting to begin listening to the chatter of friends reconnecting.  I took some time to check in with myself and I found that I had a kind of floating feeling, like I was disconnected or ungrounded.  This struck me as odd.  I associate such feelings with being out of balance or with the aftermath of trauma, and I didn’t really feel either.  I opened myself up further to these feelings and just kind of pushed off from the edge to swim out into the middle and see what was going on.  As I floated the chatter of the room seeped in occasionally – talk of unity, group identity, belonging.  It was then I realized that I wasn’t feeling ungrounded so much as freedom. 

Webster defines Freedom as: 

1:  the quality or state of being free: as

a :  the absence of necessity, coercion, or constraint in choice or action

b :  liberation from slavery or restraint or from the power of another :  independence

c :  the quality or state of being exempt or released usually from something onerous

I think my sense of freedom comes from the absence of necessity and constraint in choice or action.  But it is also a state of being.  As I floated there I reflected that for the first time since I was probably 13 I didn’t really identify closely with any particular group or organization.  I don’t really feel obligated towards any entity.  I don’t really feel like I’m committed to some particular project.  I just am.  It is a very novel feeling for me.  I think it is really the natural progression of a process of growth that began while I was still in the military when I started to move away from defining my sense of Self in terms of what I did in favour of what I believe.  Perhaps the move from Edmonton allowed me to make a break with some archaic structures that no longer served a purpose and were just hanging on to things familiar.  Now, even though I still have the same kinds of community involvement and professional interests, the change of location and setting were enough to knock away those facades and to allow a fresh presentation to the world.  An obvious metaphor would be that of a butterfly emerging from its cocoon to spread its wings and begin its exploration of a world full of possibility; venturing forth in a new way, open to new possibilities, new challenges.  So it is also a state of liberation and of release.

Ravens are noisy flyers.  A few have been criss-crossing the yard and the beat of their wings really do make quite a bit of noise when that’s all you can here.  Of course that gets Thor up and chasing them – not quite sure what that’s about.  I have been seeing lots of interesting birds this fall.  I had thought all the trumpeter swans had gone south, but then I saw several again last week.  I saw a young bald eagle last week too.  There have also been an extraordinary number of gyr falcons around.  It’s a wonder there are any mice left at all!

Freedom.  It’s also a place I think.  Like a kingdom, though not the Kingdom.  Maybe it’s a fiefdom of the Kingdom, given the gift of freewill we are all granted.  It is a place where I live.  It is a very nice place.  It’s a place where my spirit can roam; where I can spread my wings; where Thor can be stirred by the beat of my wings.  A place where my spirit is free to glide and swoop and survey this corner of creation and all those who come to pass by and to pause to rest and to share.  Of course this place of freedom is not an entitlement, it is earned, it is attained, it is a place along the way that is found by making the journey in the first place.  And it is not free per se, there is a cost, a price to be paid.  I imagine the cost and the coin is different for each person as is, I suspect, the way in which we each experience this state of being.  Similarly, it is not a gift to be cherished so much as a responsibility to be born, or maybe it’s gift and burden; blessing and curse.  I dunno.  But I do realize that I stand at a crossroads and there are many different paths – one of which is becoming a hermit.  That would be so wonderful for the introvert in me, but I think it would be very unhealthy in the medium term, and I think it would also be shirking the responsibility I named earlier. 

What is that responsibility?  What responsibility accrues to freedom in the fullest sense of that word?  Well, in my worldview my life is a gift to me bestowed by my Creator.  My responsibility then becomes living that life to the fullest extent possible given my potential, for living well, for choosing rightly, and by profiting from my mistakes.  I think part of my particular challenge is to take time to enjoy life and the act of living.  I believe my Creator wants to share many things with me, things best learned within creation.  I need to be mindful of my Self; present to my neighbours; and receptive to the natural world.  I need to slow down and open myself up to the creation that surrounds me and it’s richness.  There is a receptivity exercise that sounds flaky, but is really quite wonderful if you give it a chance.  You find a comfortable place free of distraction where you can observe a living plant, preferably a tree.  You clear your mind of any thoughts or ideas relative to that plant and open yourself up to what it wants to communicate to you, or rather, what God wants to communicate to you about this other living thing.  The idea is that we spend so much time and energy imposing meaning on the world around us that we miss the meaning and wisdom that is already resident and available to those who but take the time to listen and become aware.  God speaks in the still, small voice.  I need to spend more effort listening, in being present to that voice in its many forms.  Freedom to choose how I will be with God.  Freedom to choose.  Freedom.

A Still Small Voice