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What does freedom mean to you? Is it working for yourself or living as you choose? Is it having no clock and allowing time never to exist? Is it looking life and death in the face and challenging them both by living by the seat of your pants?
Well whatever it means to you, are you free or is it some deep down desire not yet realized? Some would say that government holds the key to our freedom. That with taxes and central banks they control us all. Others might add that with 24hour news media outlets, and an overabundance of information freedom to think is a thing of the past.
Well freedom to me is the power to dream. The power to believe in oneself against all the naysayer’s odds and doubt.  It is the Audacity to look beyond the present situation and clearly see what is possible. To know what can become the new benchmark is freedom to me. To live with only love as the guide allowing my spirit to make a genuine Connection with others. I believe when our spirits connect it takes us back to a more common and peaceful time and space. The one I feel that doesn’t understand hate, racism or power perhaps our beginning if such an existence is real.
Well, whatever freedom is to you, I encourage you to find it, live it, be it and not deny others of it.
I will close my May blog with a poem about a soldier by the author’s name Rachel. I hope you enjoy some freedom.
Who cares if a soldier dies?
Take a man and put him alone,
Put him twelve thousand miles from home.
Empty his heart of all but blood,
Make him live in sand, in mud.
This is the life I have to live,
This the soul to God I give.
You have your parties and drink your beer,
While young men are dying over here.
Play your politics and have your fun,
Then refuse to use a gun.
There’s nothing else for you to do,
Then I’m supposed to die for you?
There is one thing that you should know;
And that’s where I think you should go!
I’m already here, and it’s too late.
I’ve traded all my love for all this hate.
I’ll hate you till the day I die.
You made me hear my buddy cry.
I saw his leg, and his blood shed,
Then I heard them say, “This one’s dead.”
It was a large price for him to pay,
To let you live another day.
He had the guts to fight and die,
To keep the freedom you live by.
By his dying, your life he buys,
But who cares if a soldier dies!
– Rachel