This is an interesting subject and much truth written in those words. I think it would be interesting to go around the world and ask random individuals from every country, every social class, every culture; What is freedom to you? I should wonder at how diverse the answers will be.

Me too. It's such a complex subject, and I started and stopped several times. The one that didn't quite get finished started out, "Ask a hundred people what freedom is, and you'll get a hundred answers," or something along those lines. But. It didn't flow, so I started over. You know how it is. This one wrote itself.

After spending some time in a mental hospital for a huge breakdown, freedom to me was something money couldn't buy. I hated the hospital, and I hated the fact that I was not home. When I got home eventually, the first singular commodity of life to me was "Freedom" That is something I have never shared with anyone but a select few, I guess your topic brings all sorts out eh? There was in those days, the late 70's early 80's a lot of stigma to being in those places, so i learned to bury my so called dirty secret. These days of course, there is far more understanding of mental illness, and a rather broad acceptance of the condition. This of course did not mean I was sectioned or a raving loony, but that was the general consensus back then. Little whispering voices of "Psst keep away from him, he's dangerous" LOL! Puleeze!

wonderful pattern it makes

forgot to add good poem also

There is an old Dutch proverb which says “We grow too soon old and too late smart”. For most of my life I served others and tried to please. First it was my parents, then my friends and finally my bosses. My parents are gone. My closest friends are gone. And my job of thirty years was taken from me. And I found myself with no one left to serve and no one left to please. Except myself. When I read this the words of Kris Kristofferson came to me; "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose." This is a wonderful and thought provoking piece of writing but you forgot to mention two things. Freedom is absolutely terrifying and so very exciting.

You grokked this exactly. (Now THERE's a word I don't use often these days! However ... there isn't a better one out there.)

Just brilliant! 'Grokked', eh. Hmm, must investigate that.

Yep. That about nails it. Freedom is such a complex and multi-layered concept/word/thing, and if you were ask a hundred people what freedom is, you'd get a hundred variations of the same general thing, and this distills it completely. I remember coming to the realization that Freedom is often the opposite of comfort, and it has very little to do with rebellion, at least in the terms of that chest-pounding-bravado sort of rebellion. People rising up and saying: "Enough is enough!" is a whole 'nother kettle of fish. The bit that stuck with me immediately, was your this stanza, right here: "It's about Responsibility Accountability Standing in your own Footprints. Yep. That's it. Since being back in the United States for as long as I've been back, I can say that the stanza above really brings a lot into perspective. The trouble with freedom, for so many people, is that they're afraid to stand in their own footprints, because they're under the impression that they're gonna dirty up the carpet or something. The people who are most afraid of dirtying up the carpet are also the people who have clean feet because they haven't gone anywhere--mentally, intellectually, spiritually, physically, emotionally. Because in going somewhere, you gain things that no one can take from you. Perspective is one of them, but those who haven't explored, haven't discovered anything, and all they have to mark their lives are things...rather like an encrustation of limpets, barnacles, and a whole ecosystem of stuff that can only thrive in stagnation. Conversely, the Free people I've known have one thing in common. Laughter. Listen to how a person laughs (or what they laugh at) and you'll probably get a pretty firm idea of how free they are, and you'll also get a pretty firm idea of whether they're comfortable in their own footprints or if they think that their feet are dirty. Or to put it another way: freedom is the ability to take off your shoes, or leave them on (as you wish) simply because you know that reality is not covered in some kind of high-maintenance carpet. Really brilliant, and I also love the fact that this post (and comments) have led Andrea into an exploration of grokking. The last time I heard that word, I was in a room full of people wearing Star Trek badges...and that was all the way back in the 20th century! I loved reading this! The artwork is fantastic too.

Really fine, thoughtful

OH That was one fine poem, Tara I really like the image too. Superb illusion of flying birds. Fits perfectly to this poem :) I looked up the word grokked. Now I learned something new. :-)

Wow... thank for the words. They come at the right time!! You threaten not with the index finger.... you speak calm and with the tongue the experience and you consider giving. Wonderful. Recognize the freedom and knowing what you want to do with it. Before the fall of the Berliner Wall many wanted to freedom. Now they are free and they not know what to do with it.... that is sad. They have not realized that they can realize themselves.... ONLY - they must to do the step also... every self! I am ready for this journey!

This is so wonderful, Tara! It has given me pause to stop and consider..... many aspects of this word - and state of mind. Well done, my dear friend! I'll come back to this several times...

this is the hardest one to respond to As I see it, Freedom is not free - there is a big price to pay for it. Those who would have security will give up their freedom to have security! I'd rather go off the grid than to give up any freedom I have.

Wonderful writing Tara. God bless.

I wish I could find the words I seek that would allow me to share adequately the gift your writings are to me. They make me think, question, and challenge me to look at life, at myself and at so much more in a new and often more cohesive manner. I laugh, and cry, and rage, and ponder, and above all else, I celebrate the proof I find within your words that we are all connected, and are never as alone and isolated as I can sometimes feel. apologize for the lousy syntax, but hopefully I have conveyed my deep appreciation and awe at your ability to use words to open up pandoras box, to use as a signpost for alices hole, and to comfort and celebrate what is real and raw and multidimensional. thank you dear friend. teressa