Freedom's Echo

Both my earliest memory and my favourite place are one and the same. Certainly not in any literal way, but in essence they are. They do seek completely unrelated when stated; riding on my father s motorcycle over the Mackinac Bridge in northern Michigan, and our bus , which is an old school bus we converted into a trailer. However, when their significance and meanings are examined one word comes to mind, a word which I know to be an inherent of my character, freedom. As simple as that, freedom. So easy to say, yet so elusive, and so very difficult to define.

When one thinks of motorcycles thoughts of speed, thoughts of exhilaration and excitement fill the mind. Most importantly though, and what all the afore mentioned emotions lead into is freedom. One of the of the many facets of freedom at least, for it s a complex structure (or perhaps, lack thereof) indeed. This is what I call emotional freedom, where practicality and pragmatism of the real world has no place. The wind rushing through your hair (metaphorically of course, as you should wear a helmet), while you tear down the highway (being careful to avoid our country s law enforcers) without a care in the world. It may be impossible to describe this feeling to one who has never ridden on a bike though. Nothing in this way feels better than just cruising down an empty highway at whatever speed is comfortable. That is the secret of freedom, self-control, doing what you are comfortable with and what you are able to handle.

My favorite place as I briefly mentioned earlier is a school bus with the seats removed and converted into a trailer. Parked out quite literally in the middle of the woods between two indifferent small towns in Ontario, this is a place of a more substantial freedom. There are a few neighboring trailers here and there, and we get along quite well with the people there. On any given day you may see people riding the dirt roads on small dirt bikes (with or without helmets), perhaps fishing, as a river is conveniently adjacent to the forest, and in the winter there is deer hunting. Occasionally people do drink to excess, but its no different than any other cottage area, and rarely are there significant problems. Though it is still subject to our country s laws, this place is likely one of the most free places still left around, as police are a very rare sight. This is a place where people are free to do what they wish, my mother taught me to drive a motorcycle there when I was 13 for instance. People do as they wish here, co-operation and pleasure run rampant. Once again this shows the secret to freedom, self-control, when rational, and self-sufficient humans can control themselves then government becomes obsolete.

In my life both of these things have had tremendous influence on who I am and how I wish to live. One showing me how to feel free, and the other showing me how to live free, all while governing myself. In Denmark, there is a place called Christiania which in 1972 became the first anarchist commune in the world. Today, despite many attempts to shut it down, it is still there, self-governing and allowing people all the freedoms they want. If I knew how to speak Danish I have no doubts that I would move there. If people could realize both the substantial and emotional freedoms I have outlined and embrace a borderless brotherhood of sorts and just work together, people could live a lot happier lives. Call me an anarchist if you wish because I suppose I am one, I simply don t need government. Other people may need to have their lives dictated from some orator up on high, but I wish only to live my life as I wish.