Freedom

For as long as I can remember, the word “freedom” was one of my favourite words. May be, the favourite one. Long before the concept itself assembled its full meaning, I believed it was something worth fighting for.

At the time, freedom meant a daily struggle with my parents against my confinement to the kindergarten; a challenge thrown to the kindergarten’s authorities against the necessitated mid-afternoon nap; a refusal to eat porridge for breakfast. In other words, freedom meant standing up to the Big People; it meant noncompliance.

I run away from home for the first time when I was ten years old. In our pursuit of freedom, my best friend and I decided to abdicate to the woods and live off the Mother Earth gathering berries and domesticating animals for their company and protection. This simple, yet elegant plan was thwarted after the first twenty-four hours in the wild. Humbled, we returned to our despondent families, the fresh taste of freedom lingering on our lips.

The obligatory confinement that goes with every childhood was amplified by the enforced incarceration within the boarders of my country. At the time of my youth the boarders of the country were shut airtight, seeing the world was all but impossible. Human rights were heavily violated and those who fought against the system, the dissidents, became my heroes.

And so ability to travel came to represent the freedom I struggled for since I was a little girl. The feeling that used to choke me when I was restricted to my childhood’s routine rebounded as I was trapped within the boarders of one place.

When I finally broke free, as soon as I reached Italy, the country of my destination, I threw away my return ticket. That was it and there was no looking back.  I was absolutely alone, scared to my bones, but finally free!

How little did I know about freedom then and how naïve was my quest! It took me a long time to realize that one’s freedom is born from within. Until then, no amount of travel or resistance would be able satisfy me.

The first glimpses of real freedom happened only when I started my search for the inner. When I opened the first book of Osho, I felt like somebody just described what I was looking for, through all my life, all these years of traveling in the search of freedom. I felt incredibly uplifted like somebody just revealed to me the most precious secrets of life.

Suddenly, I knew what I was going to do with my life. I stopped everything I was doing and went to India: to learn the ways of achieving the freedom that comes from inside.

As I was looking for the true ways, all what was not essential gradually faded away. All my old believes crumbled and nothing seemed to be the same anymore. The emerging, the new me knew nothing.

My devotion for my master was total. I gave up travels for some time and stayed in one place. Meditating and trying really hard to dissolve, to become one. ☺ Once, during an intense meditation I just ceased trying, I let go… I relaxed totally and a huge wave of liberation went through my entire being, and I discovered something much bigger than my former, always preoccupied and worried little self.

I felt free.

Suddenly, everything within became clear, harmonious, and peaceful.  At that moment I was at absolute ease. The curtains had opened up and I was shown what was the real freedom. Not fighting, but surrendering, I was a rebel no more, I was a devotee.

In my quest for more, I began to push harder. I tried full-bore achieving that “special state” of freedom: more meditation, more workshops. I tried to embrace what I couldn’t accept, tried to follow blindly the rules of  “spiritual awakening”…. And guess what? The harder I tried, the further away from the truth I felt. And more disconnected and frustrated. There was whole lot of effort in all this. And I was looking for ease.

Another realization about freedom came after I couldn’t move physically for some time due to the accident. I discovered then that freedom has nothing to do with my circumstances. When I relax totally– I feel free. When I don’t identify with thoughts, feelings, and emotions – I feel free. When I don’t trust the stories that my mind creates– I feel free.  When I accept what is – I am free.

It is a different kind of Freedom, and I love it!