Freedom’s recipe
Swingsets, forest trails, swimming pools, and ski slopes. If freedom were to have a recipe, these would be the ingredients that so perfectly combine to create a taste that makes my mouth water. What’s your recipe? What parts of being, of breathing are painted with a scent more enlivening than fresh peppermint? If you’re not on the road to free being yet, what can help steer you in that direction? What is it that can allow you to continue to hold the wheel? The feeling of lake water hugging your limbs, brand new paper, and fresh lemonade on crisp ice as the sun sets. Everyone was born confined to a certain extent- it’s written in our genes. The fact that the key to freedom exists is one that is evident- we just need to find it. So whether yours lays willingly in the bush down the street or is buried in snow on a mountain you’ve never set foot on- I dare you to ask your internal compass- what must I do to find it?
