freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose
Tonight I chose
between running and staying to accept my fate. Though perhaps either is means
to the same end. The ticket to anywhere I held is left for the janitor, and I
have no other way out… I am left for the wind to take me where it will.
I have finally come
to the bottom. I am completely without money, and countless missed
opportunities lay behind me. Somehow though, I am not scared – perhaps that
comes later – but still sure that eventually something will come, and I need
not worry. I do not think for the past or the future, but only of now. I am
here, and for this moment, that is enough.
I never doubt
weather things will work themselves out eventually, but there is always that
moment when I am left wondering how and when it
will happen. That moment is now, and it has lingered for some time now. It has
been weeks that I have wandered with little direction, and still I am unsure as
ever as to which way to turn.
I must trust that
it will come, in due time.
Things will work
themselves out, and when they do I will see clearly why the road behind me was
so steep, why the path was covered with obstacles, and where it leads from
here.
One by one, each of my friends have left me.
I am alone now in a bizarre city, with everything I own on my back. In my small
bag I carry my last €50 bill, bubbles from Bonnaroo, three pairs
of very dirty socks, six rolls of film – exposed but yet undeveloped, a small
seashell collection, 17 postcards I can’t afford to send, a red and white
striped pillow, a sleeping bag, my journal, and two cameras.
That is my life, save a change of clothes
and the most minimal toiletries.
Somehow though, it doesn’t bother me that
this is really it; and a few days from now even the last of my remaining euros
will be spent. If the bottom is not here, it is coming soon. But that doesn’t
mean I can’t climb back up again, if I want to.
Rembrant died here – penniless. And somehow,
that gives me some comfort.
* * * * *
I didn’t get the
job I had hoped for. Once, again circumstance and unavoidable situations have
decided my fate. So now I am completely broke, and completely without
prospects. I even shaved. And bought new pants.
It appears I have
really come to the bottom now. My money is gone, and my weak body shivers from
the cold and hunger. I have truly nothing now, save my tiny backpack, and its
sparse contents. Yet, somehow this seems to put me in a better situation than
before. It seems some of the pressure has been lifted, and only now do I feel
as though I can live in accord with everything I have always wanted.
There is a story of
a man who wanted to search for enlightenment:
After living many years in a very comfortable life, and acquiring great wealth, he began to feel discontented. He distributed his wealth among his family, and gave away his possessions except a few very special items that he put into a small bag over his shoulder. He then left his family and friends, wandering from place to place in search of the absolute truth. After twenty years he had become a very learned man, and had come to know himself and the world around him very well. Still, he was not enlightened. One day, very weary from traveling, he sat at the edge of a small pond. Exasperated, he decided he could continue no longer. If after twenty years of searching he had not found the key to enlightenment, he felt as if he never would. He lay down the bag he had been carrying, took off his clothes, and went for a swim in the pond. He then became enlightened.
But can it be? Is this
the ultimate existence I have been searching for – that of a wanderer, a
vagrant? I don’t believe this is really it – but I feel it coming. Things are
happening, a bit at a time, and soon I feel I will finally be able to see what
picture life’s strange puzzle hides.
But what of love?
What of family and friends? Though I have little material things left in this
world, will I ever be able to give up such furtive things as these? To be truly
free, one must give up even himself (or at least the bodily concept of
himself). Then is the price of freedom really worth it? And, once one has paid
the price, is he then truly free, or only condemned to be ‘free’ forever?
