Finding Freedom

I recently read an article suggesting that people over 70 feel more content and are happier now than at any other point.  Some of the reasons proposed were more free time to do what they enjoyed, such as hobbies and spending time with family and friends.  Other reasons suggested worrying less and not caring what other people think anymore.

What freedom.

You have the freedom to do what you want and with whom you want to, and more importantly, you experience interior freedom while doing it.

I am a few years from 70, well 30 to be exact in September, but I long for the interior freedom that this study suggests.  Freedom from not only the weight of what others think but also the freedom from ideals.

The perfectionist in me has served me well for the first half of my life.  It drove me in all facets: the athletic field, the classroom, and even the moral life.  It gave me the standards which I strived to achieve.  That being said, the transition into the second half of my life has been about recognizing things that were once strengths now being weaknesses.  What used to work doesn’t work anymore, and those things that drove me to act now prevent me from acting at all.

The story of the river comes to mind here.

The rules, the laws, and the moral life have always been the banks of the river for me.  They have kept me from floating all over the place and moved me down the river to a somewhat productive life, hopefully helping me become somewhat of a “good” person along the way.  (Whatever that means)

For the first half of my life, these banks served me well.  At this stage, I realize that the banks have always been my sole focus.  My life consisted of living up to the lofty ideals or not.  My perfectionist side was the high-powered engine of the boat that kept me moving toward those lofty ideals.

The freedom I long for now is not that those banks disappear but that my focus shifts.  I long to shift my eyes from the unattainable ideals to the beautiful flowing water that floats the boat effortlessly down the river of life.   This water gets choppy and rough and often overflows the banks, but the water keeps moving toward the serene stillness of a lake.

In other words, it is the freedom to know, accept, and smile at my faults instead of hating them.  It allows the ideals to do their job without focusing on them as the big deal.  The big deal is my life as a whole and those people who share my life with me.

I haven’t written much in the last year, partly because of this painful, beautiful transition.  It is a transition that has been about permitting myself to shift my focus from the things that used to give me purpose to those that provide me with life today.  I love music.  I love stuff from an older generation (houses, furniture, cars, antiques), and I have grown to love taking pictures (hence my multiple Instagram accounts, which even confuse me).  Yet, most importantly, I am learning to love the people in my life.  Not because I am supposed to, but because I actually do.  It is the freedom of just being, being with my wounds, scars, failures, virtues, and goodness, while being with others who also have their wounds, scars, failures, virtues, and goodness.  Laughing and crying together in this beautiful mess we call life and hopefully doing so with a scotch, cigar, and Sinatra playing in the background.

“We must learn to regard people less in light of what they do or omit to do, and more in the light of what they suffer.”

– Dietrich Bonhoeffer

My two boys love riding their bikes next to a little creek just outside our front door.  I love to walk behind them as they ride.  As I watch them, I can’t help but notice the water flowing.  It captivates me.  It’s only recently, though, that the water has become my sole focus.

I still have some time before I reach 70, but in a small way, the walk along the creek makes me feel so.

What freedom.