Or living free
It is a strange thing how restricted our lives are. We must provide ourselves with shelter and food and all the normal life substances so we learn trades or skills and acquire occupations to accomplish the sums of cash to feed our needs and wants.
We complain about our ordinary lives yet we know we must continue to struggle for our lives continue to change with more demands of children and schools and community and larger houses and more cars and insurance and yet we continue to struggle.
While we numb ourselves with plastic entertainment we view a few and wonder. How do they remain free?
Those who build houses out of sticks or live in rock caves or wander the globe without a care. How do they do that?
Are they just freaks of nature and should be avoided at every chance for they are the wanderers and the adventures that don’t listen to the norms the rest of us follow.
Some may call them street people or homeless or vagabonds or hobos, but these few are living free.
These are the spirits we read about and wonder. These are those explorers that we wish we could follow but there is a nine o’clock meeting in the morning.
Our libraries are filled with recounts of visits with those who do not conform. They are our Don Quixote or Luke Skywalker or Beowulf or Ulysses. They are our dreams that keep our dull and boring life require.
The adventure down the rabbit hole or the flight to the second star on the right were all conjured up by our minds to entertain the hope we could, even for a brief moment, live that fantasy.
So as we scoff at a person who is begging or a street musician or just the random vagabonds walking by or deciding to live free just try to remember. They may be living the life that will be read about for centuries to come with our envy and regard.