My Vision

Some things are best kept quiet.  It’s better to just shut our mouths at times than fill the void with meaning-making blabber.  The Spartans lived by this rule.  They were warriors of doing rather than speaking.  This is what made them the fiercest city in Greece at one time.  Then they opened their mouths…

Theodore Roosevelt magnified the understanding to “speak softly and carry a big stick.”  King Solomon had three very powerful reflections of wisdom:

1)   “When there are many words, transgression is unavoidable, but he who restrains his lips is wise.” (Proverbs 10:19)

2)   “He who despises his neighbor lacks sense, but a man of understanding keeps silent.” (Proverbs 11:12)

3)   “Even a fool, when he keeps silent, is considered wise; when he closes his lips, he is considered prudent.” (Proverbs 17:28) 

I’ve been very careful about broadcasting my thoughts and intentions.  I know once I say something the words can't be taken back, and they could be used or abused as people please.  Maybe that’s not my problem.

As I’m progressing through my upper 20s and many may wonder why I’m not married, have any children, or am surrounded by my loved ones, I think this would be the ideal time to make my intentions known.  This is by no means a secret.  People have heard me talking about my vision for years.  It’s part of my everyday conversation.  As my grandest vision, it should be.  I’ve told many about my various dreams in life.  What I’m writing about in this post is my bigger dream, my calling, or what I’ve referred to before, my Personal Legend.

The Core of My Vision:

So, what is at the core of my life?  Firstly, I consider myself a Transcendentalist.  An even more accurate description, I consider myself a mystic.  Does being a mystic require public approval?  I don’t think so.  The belief that “the majority is always right,” is just that, a belief.  The greatest minds were first rejected by the majority.  They all experienced an inner awakening that got them laughed at, rejected and/or killed.  I believe that when people start to identify with groups or institutions, they put on invisible shades of perception that potentially blinds them of inner awareness.  They never lose individual awareness, it just gets suppressed.  Calling myself a “Transcendentalist” or a “mystic” is a sort of paradox.  When a mystical experience is institutionalized to a belief or an identity, the experience becomes less grand.  There is a difference between “belief” and “knowing.”  “Belief” is external, an expression of ones perceptions and views by words of mouth.  “Knowing” is an inner state of consciousness, a connection with the Divine.  Knowing is only experienced through the awakening of the inner self, resulting in the observation of the created self and the transcendence of suffering.  No authority but God can awaken this reality.  I want to stress:  my own truths are my own knowing.  Somebody may know something that I don’t, and in those cases, I’m unaware in that sphere of life.  The things I do know, however, the things that I’m awakened to, are what I want to express throughout my life.

I intend to be a teacher of wisdom and spirituality to the world, not coming as a figure of authority, but as someone who merely points the way for people to experience their own mystical awakening and therefore be empowered to live this gift of life at its grandest.  It hurts me to see so many people suffering.  This last year seems to have intensified that experience.  But it hurts me even more to see those who are suffering who aren’t aware of the power they have within themselves to change the pattern.  It hurts me when victimization has taken over the mind of those striving to “get out” of the life they continue to create.  They strive for happiness, but they just don’t seem to get there.  We’ve been taught over and over by original mystical thinkers that there is not a place in time or space but a place within the self.  The grass is not always greener on the other side; the grass is greener on the inside.  Maybe instead of striving for something more we need to let go.  Maybe instead of adding more baggage to the flight with the hopes of balancing the plane, we need to get rid of all the weight that’s keeping it grounded.

As I’m sitting here in Mongolia, I realize I’m actually living my dream.  I’m living in a foreign country, meeting tons of new people, learning a second language (sort of), living on my own on a quest for self-realization.  If I can live my dream, anybody could.  Don’t get me wrong: there are good days and bad days, just like back home.  Even the most enlightened and happiest people on earth have their down days.  We’re all human.  It’s the response to adversity that decides if an individual thrives or dies.   “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.  And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing,” (James 1:2-4).  Adversity is our greatest teacher and our greatest chance of awakening.  When the response to adversity is to close oneself off and add more barriers between our minds and our inner selves, we’re denying our own truth.  In the end, all barriers will be removed, regardless of whether we’re awakened or continue to be sheep.  The goal is to experience awakening in this life.  Tick tick tick.

Of course, there’s more that I want.  Back in the States, I wanted this international experience.  Here, I want even more.  That is the American ideal and upbringing of greed.  But I’m realizing this is it.  This present moment I’ve been blessed with.  It doesn’t matter if I’m here, in Washington, or in the mountains of Tibet.  I’m living my vision now.  That’s all that exist.  I don’t want to waste one second thinking of it as something to be achieved or put off for a future date.  Life is short, and I intend to see the whole universe in every second.  Now for my individual dreams within my vision.

MY VISION:  TO BE A WORLD-RENOWN TEACHER OF WISDOM AND SPIRITUALITY, NOT AS A FIGURE OF AUTHORITY, BUT AS SOMEONE WHO POINTS THE WAY FOR PEOPLE TO EXPERIENCE THEIR OWN MYSTICAL AWAKENING AND BE EMPOWERED TO LIVE LIFE AT ITS GRANDEST.

Dreams to enhance my vision:

1.     Peace Corps/International experience.  On a journey of self-realization and self-actualization.  Continuing to learn more about myself and the world beyond America.

2.     Publication of numerous books, articles and blogs.  Become a Best-Selling author.  Draw interest from numerous radio stations, television broadcasts and talk shows to magnify my vision.  Have a large personal library where I continuously study.  Have a grand piano in the study where I can contemplate.

3.     Getting two Masters degrees in Transpersonal Psychology and Education and Leadership.  Raise my credibility to the public eye (though I’m forking thousands into the hands of the already-wealthy).

4.     Teaching experience/coaching experience.  Involvement and teaching of the young generation.  They’re the world’s next leaders.  What better way to implement change than to inspire the next generation’s leaders?  As a school administrator, leading a revolution of transformative education (holistic/whole brain education).

5.     Buying, owning and running a hostel in Central America.  This is not only a vacation spot during the summer months where I’ll meet people from all over the world; it’s a place where I will do the majority of my writings for my books.  As a family business, we’ll all continue to have countless experiences together.

6.     International speaker and life coach.  I will teach on the principles presented in my books, which stem from my vision.  Schools, seminars, conferences.

7.     Anna’s Kin Ministry.  Continuous writing of songs and holding concerts.  The continuation of a legacy left by my Great-Grandmother of bringing love to the world.

8.     Family historian and keeper of family relics. Preserving the memories of the past.  We are our ancestors.  Family is not necessarily blood-related.  It’s those who have helped us uncover our own truths.  For me, it is my family.

9.     Alternative living.  Little desire of being indebted for the rest of my life in a housing payment, which is temporarily owned and continues to be thrown into the vicious cycle of buying and selling.  There is no real ownership in the physical realm, just shared space.  What is my choice for alternative living?  That is yet to be clarified.

10. Family.  The value of family, my strongest relationships and my greatest feelings and expressions of love.  I intend to get married and have kids- someday.  The possibility is not something I fear of losing the older I get. 

I have lived a great life.  The transitions have been tough.  It’s those tough times that I value the most and have taught me the greatest truths about myself.  I am on a journey, and every day is a new step on that journey. 

Are you living life to its fullest?  Are you focused on every step that you’re taking?  If you have spent years in restlessness, torment, and/or suffering, are you ready to let go of those bags you’ve been carrying around and embrace the beauty and grandness of life that is right in front of you?  Don’t wait; do it now.

100 Days in Mongolia

Today marks my 100^th day in Mongolia.  Wow!  How the days have flown by.  I thought it would be fun to post a list of 100 things I’ve done since being here in Mongolia. 

What I’ve Done Since Being In Mongolia

1.     Lived with a Mongolian host family

2.     Took a hot shower in a South Korean airport

3.     Made new American and Mongolian friends

4.     Had three months of training in the Mongolian language

5.     Walked to and from school an hour each day

6.     Always getting challenged by Mongolian drunk men

7.     Squatted to use the toilet (jorslung)

8.     Hand-washed my clothes

9.     Made a Mongolian meal

10. Made an American meal for my host family

11. Had my Mongolian brother try to hook me up with a Mongolian woman

12. Witnessed Mongolian nursing at the dinner table

13. Went to the Mother Tree

14. Walked around Ulaanbaatar

15. Watched a goat butchering

16. Witnessed two Mongolian fights

17. Had a photo-shoot one night with another volunteer’s host family

18. Had a “Sunny in Philly” marathon with my site mates

19. Taught English to Mongolian students

20. Crammed many bodies into one taxi

21. Saw a middle school student get punched in the face by another middle school student

22. Partied for a week straight in Darkhan

23. Got the flu during Mid-Center Days

24. Played basketball with Americans and Mongolians

25. Drank airag, fermented horse milk

26. Ate giddis, goat guts

27. Spectated the Mongolian Annual Olympics (Naadam)

28. Let my host brother borrow 20,000 tugriks, which I never saw again

29. Walked in on that same host brother and his wife at their most intimate

30. Almost got bit by a dog

31. Got lots of shots

32. Almost got charged by an angry calf

33. Saw a goat running on top of the other goats to get towards the front of the herd

34. Played soccer with Mongolian children

35. Played guitar and sang for my school’s opening ceremony

36. Gave a speech for my school’s opening ceremony

37. Wrote two new songs

38. Read two books

39. Had a gossip night with…dudes

40. Helped create and facilitate an English conference in Darkhan

41. Rode on part of the Trans-Siberian railway

42. Drove to the Mongolian-Russian border

43. Got called a “Ruski”

44. Experimented soaking cowberries in vodka to find out it was disgusting

45. Went to a Mongolian dance club

46. Sang karaoke

47. Learned and sang four Mongolian songs

48. Stayed out past three with my host brother to witness my host mom angry and hitting him

49. Found Jamaican rum and drank it

50. Discovered that my favorite pivo in Mongolia is “Khar Khorum”

51. Gave a massage (and sort of got one back in return)

52. Held a rabbit

53. Dug a well

54. Fetched water out of a well

55. Took a bucket bath

56. Got made fun of for saying “baas” (which means poop) instead of “bas” (which means and).

57. Got invited in by a Buddhist monk to his study

58. Got cleansed by a Shaman

59. Drank water from a natural spring

60. Jumped off a giant sand dune

61. Sat next to a pretty girl on the airplane

62. Stayed in three different aimags

63. Won a volunteer trivia night

64. Actually won in site-vs.-site dodge ball

65. Dressed in a Mongolian traditional dell

66. Held a baby for the first time in 14 years

67. Ate mutton cooked by hot rocks

68. Visited a ger

69. Lived in solitude in a Soviet apartment

70. Milked a cow

71. Got a piggy-back ride from my small Mongolian host dad, who ended up with a strained lower back

72. Debated Ron Paul and politics with fellow volunteers

73. Wrestled Mongolian-style (sort of)

74. Hiked a mountain

75. Woke up out of a dream screaming

76. Had a sleepless night caused by a rooster crowing

77. Had weekly campfires with the other PCVs

78. Played ping-pong against a Mongolian elder

79. Discovered that Snickers and Twix are bomb-diggity

80. Found a dead decomposing bird in the clean water source which I usually drank out of

81. Won at beer pong and then lost the next match to two girls

82. Was in the same room as two people getting it on

83. Lived out a “King of the Hill” moment, drinking a pivo outside the delgur with my friends

84. Ate at an Irish-American pub, which was not so Irish

85. Shopped at three different black markets

86. Flew in a tiny airplane across the country

87. Watched the Heat defeat the Spurs in the NBA Finals

88. Taught Darkhan teachers about different ways to use the Internet as a resource

89. Discovered that mustard is great with spaghetti

90. Learned the Cyrillic alphabet

91. Joined a fantasy football league

92. Recorded a song sung and played by a Mongolian family

93. Met the American Ambassador to Mongolia

94. Experienced the freezing cold of an early June night

95. Went to Caikhan Uul

96. Ate hosher at Naadam

97. Drank gin with tang

98. Joined the “Game of life”

99. Was part of an act at a Mongolian circus

100. Sat next to the Mongolian version of Mac’s mom (Sunny in Philly) in the taxi

My Journey Continues in Choibalsan

These last three months have witnessed a transition phase from certain American living to a less definite foreign engagement.  I have traveled to several continents before:  Europe, Africa and Central America.  I have connected with certain places more than others.  I often reflect on my connection to the Caribbean lifestyle:  the people, the food, the culture, the region.  The connection is so strong that I intend on buying and running a hostel in Belize, Panama or Costa Rica sometime in the next few years, along with my brother and dad.  Does this mean the experiences of Europe, Africa and Asia are of any less value?  Of course not.  It shows that we are all individuals that have deeper connections with certain people, places and objects, some more than others.  I never expected to be living in Mongolia at this time of my life; I never expected to be living in Mongolia at all.  But God has a way of laying out our life path.

On August 12 we found out where we would be working the next two years in Mongolia.  Over the last three months, I made many close friends and acquaintances.  When I left Washington I didn’t know how I would respond to being away from those I’ve been closest to my whole life.  I hadn’t ever left my close ties for longer than a month and a half.  This, to me, was my biggest challenge going into the Peace Corps.  When we had our orientation days back in Washington D.C. in May, we met the rest of the M24s we would be connected to for the rest of our service.  I didn’t know who I would meet or what to expect.  I came in with a very individualized mindset of personal evolution, seeing new relationships as pawns to my own chess game of experience.  I remember going out the night of May 29^th with Adam, Ben, Aaron, Cal and Karissa to a bar in D.C. where there was a trivia night.  Adam was my roommate, and I remember having a discussion with Cal about Wyoming and Karissa about something else.  I remember getting sliders and fries that night, along with a few cervesas.  That entire time I was thinking of the adventure ahead and about the relationships I had left behind.  But I started to connect with the M24s around me, grasping onto common goals and aspirations.  The relationships only grew stronger from the flight over to Final Center Days.

The next three months I drew close to several M24s, and as an entire group, all of us came to know each other quite well.  We didn’t bring up the past too often.  I barely know the history of those I claim closest to me.  But we had a connection, one of adventure, of transformation, of leaving home to embrace the unknown.  All of us were in this together, no matter our past.  It was relieving, the fact that we could start over how we wanted and not get caught up in previous barriers.  We could create who we wanted to be the next two years, without any expectations, and with a blank slate.  These last three months saw new connections with people I had never met before, with past lives spread throughout America.  It now seems like I’ve known these guys for a lifetime.  I consider myself primarily an intrapersonal person, on a goal of self-discovery that has been and is the focus of my worldview.  It takes time for people to become defining figures in my life.  Every person I value as being part of my journey and is supposed to be with me at a particular time.  I don’t lose friendships gained, but the connections that were defining and strong in the past may not be as defining and strong in the present.  My high school and college friends can account for this.   Any individual can account for this, as our relationships are constantly evolving around our personal destiny.  The new relationships I formed in the Peace Corps account for a new era of relationships.  Will the strong connections last?  This is time’s judgment.  I have a few strong connections I’ve kept since high school. 

I am now living on my own, in a Soviet-styled apartment.  I have visualized living on my own the last 3-4 years since my graduation from college.  My parents can verify.  I’ve strived for independence, for that day that I can focus my attention on creating the life and destiny that I want.  Now I have it.  I have it all.  I’m in a foreign country, independent on my own, contemplating reality.  I am on my own with those closest to me at a distance away.  The safety net of relying on anybody has now disappeared.  Who do I turn to when troubles arise?  Where is my safe haven?  That will be part of my discovery.  I thank God for the Internet, for being able to communicate with those who most know me.  Is this what I wanted in the first place?  Yes.  How can I expand?  Expand into the darkness, into the depths of my own soul and the cloud of the unknowing.  The battle is between fear and love.  Fear we learned here.  Love we were born with.  We don’t remember the first three years of our life, yet the entirety of those years was spent hovering in the unknown.  Why do we fear the unknown?  Because our egos want something consistent to hold onto to increase the duration of their life.  Our identities seek to live on.  When we have no consistency to hold onto, we have to embrace the present moment, the only thing that exists.

This is an amazing journey.  I embrace every single second that presents itself.  I came here to evolve and experience truths.  This has now represented itself in a new way.  I’m in the front seat, waiting for these revelations.

2013- A Year of Change

2012- the Year of Prophecy.  Media hyped up the year as being the possible “end of the world,” December 21, 2012.  But a simple study of the origin of that prophecy shows this was a mistaken understanding.  The Mayans crafted a cyclical calendar, a belief in time that was continuous, not linear with a beginning and an end.  2012 was not the end of the world, the Mayans believed, but the end of an era.

What truth is there to this belief?  Was 2012 really the end of an era?  For my family and myself, the prophecy has proved accurate. 

The end of an era means a change from the previous era.  When one has been comfortable in the preceding era, change is arduous.  When one has been longing for a breakthrough from a previous era of hardship, change is appreciated.   Perhaps change is both.

As my mother and I were sitting in the hot tub at our house in July of 2012, we reflected on life up to the present.  We echoed memories of life back in Yelm, school, college, trips and pets.  We agreed that we were in a transition period.  It started when my older brother Cory went off to college in 2002.  It progressed when I left for college myself in 2006, and even further in 2008 with the passing of my Grandma Rothwell in July and our move to Castle Rock in August.  2008 was also the year of my first international trip, which gave me the passion for travel and resulted in later trips and eventually motivated me to take this Peace Corps voyage.  2010 was my college graduation, Cami’s high school graduation, and Cali’s transfer to Toutle Lake High School.  The adored era of my childhood was closing, only mere memories left as its legacy.  The greatest factor of change was the succession of generations.  The last 10 years had seen many of the key figures of the previous era pass away.  Many of my grandparents’ siblings and their wives had departed.  The death that had the greatest affect on me was that of my Grandma Rothwell.  The extended Rothwell family used to gather together on a regular basis for birthdays and holidays, Grandma Rothwell being the matriarch of those gatherings.  She implemented into every soul the importance of family.  When she passed, it resulted in the greatest change of tradition that our family had ever experienced.  Getting the entire family together for celebrations became much more difficult, as the grandchildren grew and started their own families.  The succession of generations. Things would continue to alter.  The next great change transpired a little over four years later, digging deep into the core of our immediate family and fulfilling the Mayan prophecy of the change of eras. 

In January of this year, my Grandma Iverson passed away.  Living with our immediate family for over 24 years, she was a defining figure of my childhood.  While Mom and Dad were at work, she helped raise us kids when we were too young to go to school.  Throughout our school years, she would always meet us outside the bus stop, with a younger sibling in the stroller.  Every week she would make cookies and treats we would enjoy, as well as entertaining a drawer full of Cadbury chocolates we so savored.  She was more than a grandparent to us, though.  She was our second mother, and to all of us, a spiritual guide.  At the core of our being she implemented love, which revealed to us a greater Love, that which is at the core of All Being.  After our move to Castle Rock, change was happening at a greater rate.  Our family was still the same as it had been for 20+ years, but we knew one day we would lose the saint of our family.  As Grandma reached her 90s, dementia was starting to become a harsh reality.  Her short-term memory was waning, but her long-term memory and spiritual being were still very sharp.  In the next couple years her long-term memory started getting foggy and greater confusion set in, not only for her, but also for the family.  Is this the sort of decline this precious woman deserved?  What is it like to “lose your mind?”  While her capability of distinction and concrete conceptions were fading, her spiritual essence remained strong.  She was praying more than ever and was constantly leaning on God’s Hand.  While her mind left, her spirituality never did.  When Grandma Iverson passed in January, the feeling of loss overtook our family.  We knew the day would come, and we prepared for her departure.  The preparing for departure and the actual event weren’t the same, however, the latter being much more difficult.  We opened up to Divine Direction, as Grandma had taught us to do, and we knew that God had a purpose in all of this.  Leaning on this understanding, we were at peace with God taking her home.

While Grandma’s death was the greatest change any of us had gone through individually and as a family, we stood ready to watch God reveal his plan.  Within the next six months we had learned of four more deaths of family and friends.  Uncle Phillip Rothwell, George Beverely Shea, Rochelle (Iverson), and our neighbor’s brother Warren had all passed.  2013 was quickly becoming the greatest year of change any of us had ever witnessed.  In January, while Grandma was in the hospital, I heard I was going to be serving in Mongolia for two years.  The initial news left me shocked.  I expected to be going somewhere closer to home in Latin America.  Hearing that I was going to be going to Asia, especially with Grandma in the hospital, left an uneasy feeling inside.  My family and I were going through this change together, and now I was going to leave them to live on the other side of the world.  Grandma’s death drew us all closer, and I feared the homesickness of being away for so long.  Nevertheless, I believed this was my Divine Path, and I was going to trust open doors as the way to my Personal Legend.  I’ve been here almost two months.  Things are being revealed to me at a great pace, and I long to know more everyday.  The wisdom I gain will be with me for the rest of my life, and I cherish every day that I’m here. 

The reason I reflect on this year is because last week I heard of another death in our family.  It wasn’t a person but a pet.  We have had many pets before:  dogs, cats, cows, birds, rabbits, and chickens.  Only a couple pets we had kept for over 10 years.  The greatest connection any of us has ever had to a family pet was to Katonna, our German Sheppard of over 14 years.  She had lived with us at our old house and was the last association we had back to our old home.  In the last professional photo our family took together at the old house, Grandma sat in the middle, while Katonna laid in front.  The photo has become a classic overnight.  Earlier this year we had found a tumor on Katonna’s stomach, and it was growing.  Just as we had expected Grandma’s death, we expected Katonna to go within the next year.  When I was making one last round to say goodbye to my home before I departed for the airport, I looked at Katonna, who was wagging her tail and talking.  Oh how she loved to talk to us!  I petted her and sent her my love.  I knew that would be the last time I saw her.  In the middle of July, Katonna’s cancer spread.  On the 18^th, she didn’t come into the garage.  Instead, she lay in the tall grass outside and wouldn’t move.  On July 19^th, six months after Grandma’s passing, Katonna died.  The next day my Dad went on a walk around the property, where Katonna usually accompanied him.  The feeling of loss was great.  While Grandma’s death created a feeling of loss in the house (and in the heart), Katonna’s death extended the feeling outside.  Katonna’s presence had been so strong for so many years, her energy transcending that of any previous pet.  This was another great loss for the family.  I’m going to miss her.  

2013 has not been the year of change, as I would like it.  When one has been comfortable in the preceding era, change is arduous.  But it takes change to progress forward; it takes great difficulties to realize greater truths.  My childhood is complete.  The previous era may have been the golden age of my life, but maybe my life can be a golden existence.  

A new era is here-- I’m excited to witness it.    

Naadam and Darkhan

It’s been a pretty demanding week.  We were in Darkhan from July 1 to July 4.  We didn’t celebrate the 4^th here, as one can assume.  Us volunteers knew of the 4^th when it came, but it didn’t have a major emphasis or even a major thought.  I reflect on the past 4^th of July celebrations, the fireworks, family, the memories.  I remember last year when my brother, my sister and me just got back from Belize and we went with our family to Lake Saskatchewea to watch fireworks.  The year before we were in Seattle watching the fireworks over Westlake.  The holidays bring reflections of memories past.

I was sick during our days in Darkhan.  I was bedridden for two days with a fever, sleepless nights of the chills, and in the bathroom many times.  While Darkhan is seen as the “Vegas” of Mongolia, at least to the volunteer perception, it was for me agony.  I did not enjoy watching my friends go out every night while I was trying to merely endure.  I missed some outings.  I also missed some classes.  Reflecting back, this was my experience, unique and unforgettable.  It may not have been enjoyable, but it did give me a story to tell.  Thankfully the nurses on staff kept me refilled with the ibuprofen and pepto bismol.

One of Mongolia’s biggest holidays, Naadam, took place on Wednesday and Thursday this last week.  Naadam is similar to the Olympics, a national competition of the three manly sports of Mongolia:  wrestling, archery and horseback riding.  Just like the Olympics, the competition is kicked off by pre-ceremonial presentations and dances.  Men and women dressed up in traditional Mongolian clothing.  The colors were vibrant.  My host family gave me a “del,” a traditional shirt to wear to Naadam. The other PC groups came from across the area and watched.  There were many gers set up outside the stadium selling hosher (friend dumplings) and airag (fermented horse milk).  It was pretty good.  It tasted like yogurt.  We were told not to drink too much, because we would be in the jorslung constantly. 

We have one more month here in Sukhbaatar before we’re placed.  I’ll most likely be working in an aimag with another volunteer in radius.  My host family’s been great, very nice and they involve me with a variety of things.  I’m ready for my own ger, however, and space to create my routine.  We have to constantly report to our host family where we’ll be and for how long.  This curfew, my goodness!  I feel like I’m 16. It’s a humbling experience.  It may take this experience to really embrace the liberty that’s right in front of my eyes.   Maybe the freedom I’ve been searching for has been here all along.