Feature photo by Myles Hyman, The Travel writer
This month’s edition of TheDigestReport comes during my writing anniversary week. Three years ago, I embarked on a passion of mine’s full-time, and oh boy, how I no longer care. But obviously I do, and enough to write about it, three years later…
Tuesday, October 19, 2021
October 18, 2018, I drove to work to drop off my laptop and pick up my things. I was pursuing freelance writing and becoming a full-time author, so, yeah, I was out of there.
After leaving downtown Portland, I had scheduled spa time to decompress and go into the floatation tank for the first time. If you care to read about that experience, it’s all right here…
But first, I wrote Aviator. Which was fun because I got to play around with movie titles and plots. These movies all have to do with travel, my corporate exit plan, and the freedom I would assume to have with writing full-time.
And here I am three years later, redefining my sacrifices for some so-called freedom.
An individual who chooses to leave society and meditate into death is free from life’s pain. Call it a tradeoff, compromise, sacrifice, or choice—they won’t experience the typical joy of living with a loved one happily ever after. They relinquish opportunities to find purpose, passion and experience the satisfaction of the average human. They’re basically saying, “Fuck life’s ups and downs.”
Keep in mind, this act is a virtue serving a purpose just as well as any other. And most people won’t pursue a virtuous life anyhow. But for those of us meditating 15 – 30 minutes a day to calm the mindful storm and escape the mess, could you do that into death, or would that seem meaningless?
Personally, it’s the positive side of people, their opinions, making money, looking good, and the general stuff that makes us human, my reason for not doing that.
And family, of course.
So, why would someone want to be free from that?
I honestly don’t know, but in that floatation tank, I imagined so.
Freedom is like a double-edged sword we all have. Physically fight for it; you amplify not being free. Ignore it; you’re just as free as my enslaved ancestors. Either way, it’s the elephant in the room growing anxious, and if no one takes it out to play, it’ll fuck up some shit.
Freedom isn’t about doing what you want and when you want; freedom is compassion and your ability to feel pain without judgment. Because when something feels good, life is good at that moment. Think of it as a grace period before the ‘dulling of life’ returns.
And when the dullness returns, do you ever think to get excited for the return of a good time? Meditators, do you look forward to meditating and being free to imagine anything you want at that moment?
In closing, three years of writing has taught me freedom isn’t a choice nor an action; it’s the ability to find joy in trusting yourself and letting go. We’re not in control of our freedom either way.
Freedom is subjective to the mind.
…I’m like my father, who was a preacher, and now I get it because I’m gonna need to write a Part II on this about discipline.
So that’s all I have to say; it’s all I have today.