Posts Tagged freedom
This is a guest blog from a Swedish man who writes under the pen name, Fomtriok. I find his writing to be profound and insightful, even more so than published books I’ve read on the human condition. I’ve included his short bio at the end of the post. Enjoy!
There is this disposition that some people have, but most people lack. If one does lack it, it is the simplest thing in the world getting it back. Because everyone had it once. It doesn’t really demand an outward action to get it back, but it rather demands the courage to step out of line and accept having it.
Let us get started.
Children – they live their lives from the inside out. They start focusing on one thing, then they start trying to understanding one thing; playing with, lifting up, measuring, biting, fumbling with – one thing. And then they move to the next. Part by part they get to know their own selves, their room, their house, their universe.
Most adults, however, live their lives from the outside in. They start out by simply acquiring some locale in which to live. Thus, they start with the shell. And they start with a schedule that is empty of activities. Then they ask themselves, ”What do I put in this shell of a house? In this shell of a schedule?” And one by one, they start filling the house with objects, and possibly even a family. Gradually, they start filling their schedule with activities, musts and obligations. From the outside in.
That is no way to live life. That life is unnatural. It is a mere imitation and parody of life. It is the life of a machine. People who live like that often find themselves unhappy and ask themselves, “Why am I unhappy?” The question is ironically a manifestation of the very problem. They ask themselves, “What do I lack? What is it that I have not yet put into my life, or schedule?” So they try to add even more things, or activities, to fill the void, and “fix” what they assume is the problem; that a certain thing, or event is lacking.
But they are doing it all wrong. It is not so much that they add things, but rather how and why they add things. The underlying problem – sickness even – is that they are living from the outside in: They add things only after careful consideration. That is not life. That is work. Life happens when you turn the whole thing upside down, and start from the inside. Then you won’t even notice whether you are adding or removing things, because all that consumes your attention is primal and unaltered curiosity.
Those souls who drive the world forward, in the small or the big sense, never abandon the way of the child. They never stop living their lives from the inside out. They never stop focusing childishly and joyfully on the small “toy” – on that singular point of interest. They could care less whether others perceive their curiosity as weird or normal. And only from that standpoint do they gradually work their way outwards into the unknown, constantly playing, constantly putting together and taking apart; disassembling and reassembling, over and over, in an infinite loop. Until the whole room has a role in the game. And then the child starts over. With a new room, or the same room from an entirely new perspective. From the inside out. And the game is on again.
That is a true life. It is the only life that is happy and free. It is simple – even when it is complex. It is irrelevant whether your point of curiosity might be pottery, or explaining a complex scientific phenomena. It is still an utterly simple life.
When you are a child, there is no arrogance. You do not drag others down with cynicism. Nor do you let cynics drag you down. You merely play. At the end of the day, that is all life is; a vast playground for us to fill with meaning.
My name is Oscar Herrgård. I am Swedish. I am interested in meeting fascinating and kind people, who think well, but also act and don’t just talk.
I want to share my story. This journal is simply one of my windows to the world. Already long ago I decided that the only life I want to live, is one where I wholeheartedly dedicate myself to solving some of the greatest challenges in our world (most importantly climate change and socioeconomic unfairness). Life is simply wasted if you don’t spend it doing what is most valuable to you. Don’t become; Rather be. Don’t want or plan; Rather be. Incorporate your ideals in the small detail here and now. That is how you move mountains.
Here is a vision of my future self and a vision for anyone else who desires to achieve something along these lines:
It is not just another day.
I swim in the ocean of bliss.
I merge with the beauty that I am and the beauty that we are. I sing the body ecstatic. I consciously raise my vibration out of the ordinary into the extraordinary.
I am alive with the wellness of Being.
I am no longer bound by the constraints of frustration and the boredom of routine. This is the new world I have been seeking. In this moment, amidst the peace and the flow, nothing else matters.
The problems of the world don’t exist. My perceived problems don’t exist because the wall of separation is breaking down—like the Berlin Wall.
The minor irritations don’t exist because everything is taken care of in this moment of sublime peace and bliss.
Yes, it is possible to live in an ocean of tranquility; to drink divine nectar; to radiate joy to every person I meet; to live beyond prescribed norms.
The Heart of Life opens. I jump from my perch of uncertainty and the light opens its arms to me. It is a good light. It will not hurt me. I trust it will take me where my heart truly wants to go.
I am not alone. I fear no evil. I have faith. I have trust. I believe in myself and the essential goodness of my creator.
I am love. I am beauty. I am everything I want to be and beyond.
There is no end to the depths and heights of this glorious reality.
“We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”
George Bernard Shaw
There is a child in me that wants to romp and play in sunlit fields.
If there are no sunlit fields to play in, then the child invents one with his imagination.
The child knows that there is a real world beset with serious problems and pitfalls. The child also knows that there are admirable people who face these problems head on every day to make the world a better place. These people have a calling to do what they do.
The child prefers to live in sunlit fields, dreaming of a better life. The child knows that if it can make its dreams come true, then others will be inspired to do the same.
Perhaps dreaming is the child’s calling.
I have dreamed big dreams. Some of them have come true. I cannot measure the impact that my dreams have had on others, nor should I care. I can only go on dreaming and manifesting them.
Grayson found it hard to breathe. Sweat poured from his forehead, down his crimsoned cheeks, onto the stiff collar of his white shirt.
The cubicles surrounding Grayson in the sprawling call center buzzed with activity.
“This is Grayson Sellers speaking. May I have your contract number please?”
“I only speak English,” Grayson replied.
“Where are you from, Amigo?”
“We’re not supposed to disclose personal information. Please describe your problem so that I can help you.”
“Don’t get excited, hombre. I ‘m just being friendly.
“I appreciate that. The problem is we have to complete a certain number of calls in an hour. If we fall short, we have to have a good explanation. Now, how can I help you?”
“Do you like your work?”
Grayson made no reply. They hadn’t given him a script for a situation like this.
He peered over his cubicle walls in all directions for signs of his supervisor. She was cruising three rows to the south in a bright pink dress and one-inch heels. Despite the low heels, the sturdy woman easily topped six feet. Her keen eyes scanned the room for the slightest hint of operator error.
“To be perfectly honest, I’m not crazy about working here, but the pay is great.”
“I’m a landscape architect—love my customers and they love me. Business is booming like you wouldn’t believe.
“I’m happy for you.” Can we please get to your insurance issue?”
He imagined the explanation for losing control of his temper and the call. The customer was excessively friendly.
“Working indoors is not my gig,” the caller elaborated.
“I get panic attacks.” The words tumbled out of Grayson’s mouth by themselves.
“I feel for you, Hermano.”
He heard heavy footsteps approaching. The supervisor pulled up like an army tank reversing on its treads. “You’re sweating, Sellers. Do you have a fever?”
Grayson dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief. “Just a little summer cold, Mrs. Wilson”
“Be sure to cover your mouth when you sneeze.”
A few rows away, an operator raised her voice. Mrs. Wilson’s head turned like a turret. She clanked away.
Another casualty of the telewars, Grayson thought.
“I could use another good man. Why don’t you call me after your shift?”
“You don’t even know me.”
We’ll talk. Then I’ll know you better.”
It was against the rules to use customer records for anything except work for the company. There was a rule attached to almost everything he did inside these walls.
Against his better judgment, Grayson jotted down the name and phone number on his computer screen.
The call proceeded smoothly to completion.
That night, Grayson dreamed of a plant nursery in South Miami he had visited as a boy. He played tag with his younger sister among acres of Royal Palm trees. He wandered between rows of potted orchids blooming in beautiful pastel colors. He inhaled the rich floral perfume. The warm sun and a cool winter breeze kissed his cheeks.