Run for hills: freedom and everything in between
What does freedom mean to me? It’s a question I have asked myself over and over again, and seem to always have a different answer. But that’s okay, this is one of the fabulous key life questions that is worthy of a million different answers, depending on the day. Keep asking yourself, what does this mean for me?
It’s incredible how it feels different on the daily and I think can be likened to choosing your undies every morning, an equally as important choice which should be revisited on the daily. Some days Spanx feel appropriate (god known why – those things are a pussy prison), others call for a sexy little pair of knickers for an extra bit of raunch factor, and some days call for none at all (for the fuck it days in life).
Why limit yourself to just one pair, one type, for eternity? The same applies to what freedom means for you. Poke at it, prod, be curious, play with it, ask others what it means for them, and never ever stop redefining it.
Freedom for me, today, means not being censored, not having to conform to the norm. This for me is paramount right now as I forge a new way in the world, entirely disparate from the life I lived before. I was enslaved by invisible chains to a title, or various titles actually (lawyer, single, career girl) that I didn’t need or want. But take away those chains and….what? Well, this is what happened in my head, a sort of synopsis of my synapses if you will: “Take the chains away? Are you serious? Huh? I’m not sure about that. What will I do? Who am I without them? What the fuck is happening? I don’t like this. This is not good. This is NOT GOOD”. It transpired that I was so used to them, that I had not a clue who I was without them. I become glaringly apparent my darlings that this “freedom business” was going to take a little more adjusting to than I expected. Bear with me, and I’ll explain….
What I want to share with you, what I want to chat to you about today, and what “they” don’t tell you, is that freedom can feel frightening in the beginning. Terrifying. It’s the exact opposite of what you expect. Which makes it all the worse. It’s ‘supposed’ to feel exhilarating, and for me it didn’t. At all. It was crippling and overwhelming – and felt somewhat akin to being wrapped in cling film from head to toe with not so much as air hole poked in for your breathing comfort. Not pleasant. I don’t give a shit what your luxury spa destination tells you about “body wraps” (which I loathe), this.is.hell.
So, let’s right jump in, and test what the freedom waters are like for you. I think it’s something you need to experience fo yourself. You won’t know until you try. Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand the first time. We can do this. Brace yourself; the water’s probably slightly colder than you might think.
Imagine this: an hour from now, you are going to start living exactly the life you have dreamed of, keened for your whole life, and wished with all of your being for. All of it. Not bits of it drip fed to you through the feeding tube that is your current life, no compromises have to made, whatever you want is yours for the taking. I am talking about the whole kit and caboodle. Box and dice.
While you turn your mind to this, as that beautiful smile creeps across your face, as you let your hopes run free across the surface of your mind, I would love you to share these thoughts with someone, speak you dreams or ideas of freedom out loud. Tell someone, anyone, even if it’s just your cat, what this means for you. Fish around deep in your heart and soul, get all in there, and find out what freedom is for you. Now, today.
Start by thinking about how it would look and feel for you. Explore it through your senses. Let it seep into your pores, permeate your bloodstream, let it coarse around your being, and come back with something, anything. What would it taste like? What would you do first? What would you see? What is the first thing you would touch? You get my drift. Think about it; long and hard. Roll around in it for a bit.
Now…actually do it, even just one component of it, that requires you to go out on limb, to reach into your courage reserves. Or at least try to. Then see what happens. Notice what your body does next.
I’m going to share a secret with you. You think, probably partially because at times I let you, that I am free as a bird, and that I am living those wild-hearted dreams of mine, and have been since I left Australia to explore the world and become a writer, a source of inspiration to others, and bon vivant in general. Well, here it is: the truth. This was not happening. Or not often. Usually not for more than a few hours, maybe days at a time – it was unsustainable, and I was fighting it tooth and nail. Until yesterday. Let me tell you the truth of what happened for me. The real truth, not the Instagram or Facebook version. Actual reality Miss Cook style.
It was an almighty shock to me, to find that every time I fronted up to the task of giving myself permission to be free, chase everything I ever wanted, to make it happen my way, I choked. Supremely. Not just a little cough or a hiccup, a small “ahem”, before moving on. Nope. A “drop to my knees, clutching at my neck, I can’t fucking breathe” type choking. I felt like I was dying, like the air was being forced from my lungs, and I was paralysed unable to move. Until yesterday, this happened regularly. More choking than freedom I assure you. It was a consistent pattern which ws so unbelievably frustrating, even when I preached about living your dreams and aiming for the stars, I was stopped dead in my tracks. Immobile. Frozen. The Madonna kind, NOT the Disney kind.
I had one million reasons for not embodying my new found freedom myself. Here are a few clangers (if you’re not Australian google it) in the hope it will make you feel better about whatever is happening for you:
I’m not good enough (lifelong motif)
I have no idea what I am doing (well this is nothing new, let’s be frank)
It’s not perfect (this was a recurring theme)
No one is going to care what I have to say (not when you mumble it and they can’t hear you)
I’m a self-indulgent asshole who travels constantly and does nothing much else (insert uselessless wallow here)
I’m afraid of being successful (am I ever)
I’m terrified of not belonging (baaaaaaaaaaa baaaaaaaaaaa).
I absolutely could tell you to chase your fantasies in whatever way felt good for you, and make you think I was chasing mine, but damned if I could actually do it for myself. The fear hurdle was too high and I was petrified of it. I literally could not lift a finger to help myself. I kept asking people for help, people I set up to fail by raising the bar so high they had no hope of ever meeting it let alone clearing it, and then promptly blamed them for ‘failing’. It was a shit-show. I was going nowhere fast, and I always had a reason for not moving forward. The conditions had to be juuuuuuuuust right. Only they never ever were.
This was until yesterday, when a treasured friend and my loyal travel buddy said (and I paraphrase) “ENOUGH!”. “You are living the life everyone else wants, and you are too scared to make it your own. Haven’t you had enough of staring into that GAPING PIT OF FEAR (insert *wince* at the word gaping). You have built a life around giving everyone else the answers, what if it’s your job to ask the questions? What is that is how you share your gift; help people explore, ferret around within themselves, allow themselves the space to see who they really are. Not tell them or give them the answers (because really there are none); just inspire them, just show them, just help them. Do that the pressure’s off, you cannot fail, because there is no such thing as a wrong question or chain of inquiry”.
#micdrop
Well, that’s news. Big freaking news.
I felt as if the heavens had opened and suddenly a whole new world opened up before me. What was stopping me? Me. I was stopping me. And now that we’ve cleared that up, absolutely nothing is stopping me now.
Since that moment, I devoured all I could on people embodying their creative freedom, and what that felt like for them. I have discovered through listening to the stories of other people braver than I, people who live on the edge and are not afraid to jump, that this paralysing fear is perfectly natural. Especially in the beginning. It didn’t feel very natural for me, it felt like being starved of air, and every single time I went to speak about living my dreams (which most people think I am already doing), a little mouse-like squeak, and not much else, came out of my mouth. A mumbled smash of words that didn’t make sense to anyone, let alone me. I couldn’t articulate my way out of a paper bag when it came to speaking about my own freedom and how to get it. How mortifying.
I had freedom and I had absolutely no idea what to do with it. For fucks sake. But all that changed with a single conversation, for which I will forever be thankful.
Right now, I am finding a new voice within, letting it come to the foreground, giving it volume. It’s my voice, of the true inner kind, and I will no longer allow it be strangled or silenced, as I have in days gone by. Not strangled by others mind, strangled by me. By my thoughts, by my actions, by my lack of self belief.
Today I made a pledge to myself to not let being afraid of not fitting in or not being part of the herd (yes, I feel this a lot – I realise this may shock a few of you), dictate how I live my life. I am going to cut loose, set myself free, and be an example for living your life in the best way possible in line with who you really want to be. I’m going to be brutally honest about what this feels like, and I hope that even just a little sliver of this, inspires you to go and do the same for yourself. Whatever that means for you.
Big love, Miss Cook xoxo
Tell me, show me, write to me: what does freedom mean for you today?