In the previous month, I was interviewed by a talented young
lady, Sara Hartinger, about what it means to be free. It didn’t take me long
to answer at all – in fact, I knew what I was going to say the moment the
rising inflection rolled off her tongue.
Freedom can be aptly described, to quote, as a feeling of
being “eternal”, as captivatingly described in The Perks of Being a Wallflower
by Stephen Chbosky. It’s that feeling when the only thing that goes through you
is air, and it fills your lungs with a gaping emptiness so vast that you feel
your existence scattered through the air around you. That amalgam of
adrenaline, cool, strong winds and pure exposure to a world that has no
obligation to accept you: bareness. A feeling often taken as ‘youth’ – but, oh,
how tragic that would be! I feel as if I should end my life now if I can never
feel that way, again.
Fitting yourself comfortably into the gaps between stars,
having an unabashed smile and driving down a long road while a song that Takes
Your Breath Away (not necessarily Berlin) plays in the car and the love of your
life is at the wheel is freedom. Freedom is an empty joy – it is not an emotion
itself, as happy or sad is, but it is distinct moments where you go beyond
feeling any banal emotions and you simply exist with a belly full of life and
the caving in chest heaving nothingness of the world sucking you into a
beautiful, beautiful spell.
I’m not saying that Apartheid ended so I could go look at
stars and listen to old love songs. I’m saying that freedom gives me the
ability to exist in a space so open and comfortable that I can let myself exist
beyond the boundaries of my own self and become something more.
Something so, so much more.
Even if just for a moment.
That is freedom, to me.
