freedom

I experienced the first bouts of utter freedom again this afternoon. It's not like I've been kidnapped recently or anything - far from it. I'm talking about the freedom that you feel in your breathing, the tension you hold in your shoulders, the endless lists you make in your head. Being free from all of that. In other words, baggage. I had in my hand my first cup of bought coffee (because I'm turning into a tight-arse) in a long time, just after lunch with a close friend in the city. I now have lunch every Tuesday with this friend of mine. It's a good feeling, knowing that something is constant, rain hail or shine, whether we've had a good day or a shitty one. Anyway, with my cup of coffee in hand, head stuck between my earphones, I swerved my way through Melbourne city foot traffic at 1.15pm. The sun in my eyes, wind behind me, it was lovely. I had change jiggling in my pocket along with my mobile, metcard & a single key to get back into the office. And as I was waiting for the tram, I realised for once in a long time I did not carry a bag, or a scarf, or a document in hand. No, all I had was a cup of coffee & head bopping to Madonna's "Get Together". That is the kind of freedom I'm talking about. To be free of my handbag, which held all my amenties, another set of keys, diary, folder. I was free of that! It felt great, and suddenly my feet picked up, I let out a whoosh of breadth and I was free. And then I wondered how long before I could feel like this again. But for the meantime, I just let go - of the nasty phone calls I've had all morning, all my worries and obligations. I wonder how many people have that kind of freedom anymore? Is it inevitable that we collect more baggage as we get older, or more precisely, as we accumulate more life experiences. Just as our experience enriches us, we also pick them up and hoard them to become a part of us. Just let go, I think. Just let go, and breathe a little easier.