Dreaming of Freedom

I often find myself staring out the window while at work, gazing at the blue and gray Wasatch mountains, ancient and resolute, hiding some world of wonder behind them. I watch slim twenty-something women walking in the parking lot below, and wonder what it would be like to know them.

I find myself fantasizing that I am somewhere else, or someone else. Dreaming that I am handsome, rich, immortal, charismatic, or brilliant. I dream of unbridled freedom. I can pick up and live in Ireland for a season if I wish; I can learn how to paint, or play an instrument, or explore a remote jungle. When life begins to feel too stale and ordinary, I can just move on to the next adventure, just as I may scan a peach tree and select the fattest and juiciest fruit.

In practice, however, I am chained to my responsibilities. There is always someone to please, someone who has expectations of me. My family expects me to provide them with a living, and care for them, and love them. My neighbors expect me to keep my yard neat. My supervisor expects me to be at work for 9 hours a day and be productive. Church, family, and friends all expect me to reach out in some way or another to causes beyond the limits of my own desire.

In my imaginative trance, these expectations do not exist. I am beholden only to my own ego and whim. I enumerate all the things I would buy and places I would visit if I keep my generous income to myself, if I were free from the needs of tithing, taxes, and the hungry mouths at home. I think of all the long walks I would take, the fascinating books I would read, and the new foods I would eat, if I had time in the day.

Have I always been so self-centered, or is this a new development? Is my yearning for something greater a hearkening to the old mysticism which I have abandoned? I admit that since losing my faith, I am in a state of transition and confusion. Anomie swirls about me like a blinding mist. I am not certain of any belief anymore, and I struggle to find profound meaning in my life. I am diffident about committing to any idea which requires a leap of faith. Should I suppress my forbidden knowledge and return to blissful ignorance? Should I abandon my inhibitions and recklessly pour out my new philosophy upon the world? Or, should I remain in-between, tepid, impotent, and ineffectual? How do I satisfy my hunger for freedom, without betraying what I already have and love?