Finding the Lever

Photo by Azmar Aso on Unsplash

“You have 25 minutes,” the facilitator said.

I was at a writer’s circle, and the prompt was, “What makes you feel free?”, and I thought, how corny. How open-ended. How terrifying.

Now I had to sweat it out for close to half an hour. I wasn’t feeling free; I was feeling stuck, the dreaded slump of writer’s block weighing me down. But I know the remedy for the drought is pen on the page.

I wrote about feeling free when I’m alone, doing things independently in places I can explore with no one else’s agenda but mine, no other voices and their intruding thoughts causing congestion at my creative intersections.

I find freedom comes from having unstructured time - enjoying my home, reading a book, or taking a nap. Calling a girlfriend and speaking openly without the worry of anyone hearing our personal conversation. Filling my favorite spots in my house with my thoughts, energy, breath, and body.

Whether I’m roaming my home, mindlessly looking through racks at TJ Maxx, ducking from anyone slightly familiar, or walking around a new to me city neighborhood noticing the doors and railings and flowers, my mind works differently in these places, more open and more curious. When my brain has breathing room, my eyes can zero in on the details of my physical surroundings.

I shared about putting pen to page and my thoughts beginning to flow in full sentences onto the paper, weaving a narrative like you crochet a blanket, connecting one loop after another.

One at a time, each idea made its way to the page. All of this is nice, and I do feel free at these times. But then, like pulling the lever in an escape room, the page opened up for me, and things went deep.

Feeling free is more than independence and autonomy. It has a sense of rebelliousness to it, like not answering to anyone else or not doing what I’m told.

It’s like taking advice and deciding not to use it, and trusting my own intuition.

So many times in my life, I took the route of freedom. I’m not someone who seeks adventure, excitement, or anything that raises my adrenaline. I’ve had enough of that. But I do like successes initiated by contrary free will.

Becoming a hairdresser because my mother thought I should be an accountant so she could tell her friends and take credit for my success.

Living in Wilkes-Barre, the armpit of PA, with my horse trainer boyfriend the summer I was 20, then leaving when I was the only one willing to hold on.

Buying a brand new, metallic blue Monte Carlo at 21, complete with payments and high insurance, but I didn’t care because I knew I’d work my butt off to keep it.

It’s opening a business in a space where similar businesses had failed, but I knew I would not, and did not.

Breaking out of an abusive marriage, even though everyone was scared for me, because how do you support yourself as a hairdresser when you divorce a doctor, instead of them worrying about what would happen if I stayed?

So in my world, feeling free is making choices and decisions approved of by my intrinsic self, regardless of what other people think.

It’s brazen. It’s wild abandon.

It’s trusting myself.