I used to think that freedom was a word that went with a ‘from’ or a ‘to’:
Freedom from stress, pain, anger, jealousy, bad habits…
Freedom to express, to roam, to do what one wants…
It was all so mistaken.
I found that freedom is the ability to rest unfazed in the totality of whatever life is dishing up. It can’t be cultivated. It flows in when one stops believing life ought to be different, that it needs fixing, or any other commentary that the thinking machine generates.
Freedom is always waiting here, now, in exactly this, at the beginning and never the end.