In a space of 24 hours, curated from different sources – 1. Creating this image of the dandelion in the last light of day while out walking; 2. Watching We bought a Zoo; and 3. reading an article about the hard questions of life by Mark Manson – and not intentionally seeking this truth, I’ve been confronted with an idea: Do I flee from my own freedom?
It shocked me at first in its simplicity. And while I am pondering the depth of its meaning, and my own response to this idea, the following has come to mind.
Walking outside with no fear has become a luxury to most.
We fear freedom, individuality (often labeled weirdness), solitude, quiet, slowness of progression, vulnerability, openness and rest. Even immeasurability.
We box things, count people, contain situations, limit ideas, stunt growth, cramp style, label personalities, set boundaries, measure skill.
Yet all these contrivances do not make for better societies. Because they are motivated from fear.
Our freedom is fragile, much like this dandelion, if not grown out of love.
And this leads me to wonder about what drives my search for freedom. I would love to hear what drives yours?