I don’t even know how to start this one…
I’ve been thinking about my values lately. Those nebulous, evocative words that define the whys of my whats.
My highest value is Freedom. It’s the one ideal I hold above everything else as sacred and true. With the Fourth of July in the rearview, meditating on this holy principle has me thinking about what it really means.
To be free is to pursue the highest level of personal autonomy. It’s dipping your toes into the cosmic ether of pure, unbridled spirit and recognizing the power of CHOICE. Freedom is the lack of tethers, restraints, burdens, and anchors.
I believe real freedom is when you are aligned with your highest purpose, and are unattached to material outcomes.
When free, we are able to do, be, and feel anything.
How terrifying.
Roadtrip
Something about driving along an open stretch of highway, music blasting, and no real place to be seems like the epitome of free.
And it’s a nice little metaphor.
At any given point in time, you could stop driving, change directions, pick up a hitchhiker, or fly off a cliff. (Mileage may vary on that last one). You’re pretty much allowed to do whatever you want.
Here’s where the reality of freedom starts to creep in.
Freedom does NOT mean an absence of consequences.
If you didn’t put gas in the tank, you’re not gonna get very far. Same goes for life. Failing to build a foundation of skills in favor of f*ckin around is going to radically reduce how far you go.
Gotta fill the tank.
In the same vein, if you decide to go see the Grand Canyon (and you should), it means that while you’re driving to the Canyon, you’re not driving to the Peekskills. Doesn’t mean you can’t change directions or go there after, but the time you’re on the road counts.
My journey to LA to be an actor was a time of pursuing a dream, exercising my freedom, and learning just how far I have to go as a person. Driving out, desert stretching beyond my vision, I felt free for the first time. And part of that freedom was acknowledging that I was giving up a more stable, certain life.
Blissful. Scary. Free.
What is freedom?
And why is it something I value above everything else?
Is it a lack of obligations and a surplus of choice? That’s certainly part of it, but I’m pretty sure there’s more to it.
When I think of freedom, I definitely hear eagles screeching, see fireworks exploding, and feel the sleeves falling off my denim pearl snap in the name of ‘Merica. I’ll crack a beer and drink to that any day.
But those things aren’t freedom, they’re just micro-expressions of a grand idea.
When the Founders drafted the Declaration and the Constitution, freedom was held up as the North Star. Freedom from oppression, tyranny, and taxes.
These are certainly more lofty embodiments of freedom.
Maybe freedom is, as a pedigreed piece of paper would say, more about being able to pursue our goals unhindered by unjust systems.
I’m honestly still figuring it out.
For now, I like how Epictetus put it.
“We are ultimately controlled by that which bestows what we seek or removes what we don’t want. If it’s freedom you seek, then wish nothing and shun nothing that depends on others, or you will always be a helpless slave. … Most people tend to delude themselves into thinking that freedom comes from doing what feels good or what fosters comfort and ease. The truth is that people who subordinate reason to their feelings of the moment are actually slaves of their desires and aversions”
It ain’t free
When I was just a young little cowboy, wearing my tiny red boots and daydreaming about being a cowboy/ astronaut/ marine biologist, my teachers gave us an assignment.
Write an essay based on this prompt: Freedom isn’t free.
This was, of course, a Memorial Day assignment meant to help us reflect on the sacrifices brave men and women have made to ensure that the American brand of freedom continues to ring.
And being the authority-bucking asshat I was at the time, I think I wrote something trite about how if freedom wasn’t, in fact, free, then it wasn’t freedom at all, but rather slavery with more steps.
How original. How angsty.
The winner of this little essay writing assignment would read theirs at a large gathering in front of the town assembly.
Needless to say, I did not win with my f*ck you. But I used spell-check so they had to pass me.
I can’t remember what my friend Nile wrote, but I do remember thinking about how our choices had gotten us where we were. I was free to dismiss the assignment or take it seriously. The consequences of my actions lead to a defacto disqualification.
Every choice costs something.
Even if it’s as simple as a time sacrifice, the freedom of choice means we will always pay some kind of price for our privilege.
The bible, in short order, makes it plain that the cost of our freedom is our connection to God. We were gifted with choice, will, and freedom - and without discipline, we will fall short.
(I’m oversimplifying. But It’s my article so I get to do that.)
I can CHOOSE to do pretty much whatever I want. That doesn’t mean it won’t be without consequences.
When I choose well, when I align my passions, values, and skills to a worthy pursuit I feel the most free. Not free of duty, but free of spirit.
After all, freedom is not an absence of responsibility, rather it’s an absence of obligation.
Where the antelope play
There’s a massive piece of my soul that longs for wide open spaces and solitude.
I can’t count how many times I’ve had the impulse to pack everything up and bolt. Some part of me is a wanderer, a nomad, a traveler. I have a desire to collect stories and places like stamps, see as much of the world as I can, and be at the whim of no man.
So I think about the cowboys of old. Romanticize really.
Solitary men on moth-long journeys across uncharted land, beholden to no one but themselves. Camping under the stars, connected to nature in ways I can only dream of. Singing songs around a fire, writing beautiful poems about open ranges and the freedom of the West while it was still Wild.
They could do anything, be anybody, and be truly unshackled from the burdens of society.
But I imagine they got lonely.
Out in the open nothingness with all but a horse and some coyotes for company.
No wonder country songs are so sorrowful.
Thanks Noah
We all have the freedom to do whatever we choose. And we can have everything we want in life… just not all at once.
My philosopher friend Noah (you should read his substack/book) was talking about values with me many moons ago. He said something that stuck with me.
“When you choose your values, you’re choosing your struggles.”
F*ck me.
If I value freedom, I will struggle against authority and constraint.
I hold my values closely, but that doesn’t mean I won’t question them. I am vigilant about the difference between choosing freedom and shirking responsibility. Or at least I try to be.
To pursue purpose with passion, to live a life worth living, to suck the marrow from the bones of the earth, and to enjoy this wonderful human experience I’ve been gifted… that is freedom.
I’ll leave off with another Epictetus quote. A man who, as a former slave, I feel understands freedom in ways I never will.
“Is freedom anything else than the right to live as we wish? Nothing else.”