Wisdom of the Week – Freedom

 

Sometime ago I met two good friends for lunch in Hyde Park, Matt and Jody. I suggested we all write on a piece of paper what we wished for more than anything else. I tore three small pieces from a sheet of my writing paper and after we had all scribed a single word, we tucked them away in the corner of our wallets and purse.

Jody wrote on her piece of paper, ‘Healing.’ She left her job and is now a talented healer, offering homeopathic remedies as a safe alternative to conventional medicine. Matt chose, ‘Happiness’. The change I have seen has confirmed his wish is steadily being granted.

I chose ‘Freedom’. I said to the angels this week, “Some say freedom has a price.”
The response they gave me was, “Freedom is prizing yourself over money and fear.”

 

 

Like most of us, I have relied on a job to survive. The thought of walking away from this with no means of supporting myself and my dependents, seemed like madness. Yet in the end I was forced to do so. My strength was knowing the Universe would not abandon me and when we show trust – we are rewarded.
Last week I discussed how we are all being forced to confront transparency. The same also applies to living a life that fulfils us, so we may discover our sense of worth. Freedom is a state of detachment whether it is an emotional chain or one of material need. It is our own thoughts that imprison us and not the actions of others.

I have waited to write this page. I say be patient, for only when we are truly ready can we embrace our self worth and declare we are finally free. 

The poem below is based on a conversation I had with a blind girl and her mother last week. She enjoys considerably less freedom than most of us. As I will no longer see her, it would be nice to think the many good friends I left behind, may consider in my absence to stop occasionally and put something in her hat – from me. 

The Blind Lady Sings

Her mother crouched upon the floor,
A woollen hat displayed,
The contents that a Knightsbridge tube
Could offer on this day.

I placed within the empty hat,
The little change I had.
I asked her, “Are you happy?”
She replied, “Some days I’m sad.” 

I said, “Why do you do this?”

And she smiled, “It pays the rent.”
I asked her if that every day
Could not be better spent.

“I hate it when it rains –
And when it’s cold and others cry,
‘Your voice is very weak’,
When in my heart I really try.” 

I said, “Your voice is beautiful,
Much pleasure this does bring.”
“I hope we speak again,” she said,
“But now I need to sing.”

‘The Blind Lady Sings’ by Lucian Eyers © 2011