When I travel something happens to me. I get lost. The concepts of time and space no longer confine me.
I become a displaced person.
When I first travelled to India it was terrifying. I did not know the external environment that surrounded me and was still to young to intimately know my internal environment. I didn’t know who or where I was. And in the midst my questioning… I connected with something deeper….
A knowing that we are all displaced people, refugees, all moving from one place to somewhere else… moving towards becoming someone or something new, unknown, foreign, mysterious… That this not knowing is real freedom.
Freedom means I may not be identified as part of any one group, but that I can find myself in every group. Freedom means finding the place in me that connects with every person I meet rather than thinking of myself as different, better or on top. Freedom is not knowing where we are but being deeply there.
Freedom is about being vulnerable to one another, realizing that our ability to connect is more important than feeling secure, in control or in the protective cave of alone.
Freedom means not waiting for someone to save, rescue, or heal our terrible past but doing that for ourselves; transmuting our suffering into salvation.
Freedom means not claiming our ground with a declarative flag but instead continuing to be open to getting lost, again and again… All the while waving our flag proudly above our high held heads.
To keep traveling past false senses of security into the endless, limitless, messiness of evolving. becoming.
And we can do all this without leaving the confinements of our front door.
But only if we believe…