When you have a lot to think about and the time to do it...things get a little dangerous.  

I'm a little torn.  I think my last entry on freedom was a little premature.  I would LIKE to think that my ability to embrace freedom is solely dependent upon understanding and accepting myself.  I stated earlier that where a person is shouldn't affect personal freedoms and though I stand by this to a certain extent, I don't think its entirely true.  In my case, it isn't necessarily where I am, but who I am surrounded by.

Without meaning to, I have surrounded myself with people from many different walks of life.  And though I may accept and appreciate that large range of lifestyles, I know that should they meet it would be disasterous.  I've come to accept that we all have a range of ourselves.  That with some, we are one way and with others, we are another.  The thing I have a harder time accepting is when part of me, isn't really me. 

What happens when you mature into yourself only to discover that those who helped you along the way are no longer standing eye to eye?  When you are criticized for being yourself, the criticism is hard to take.  Especially if you are proud of who you've become, because it took a lot of emotions, time, and effort to get there. 

Currently Playing Life for Rent By Dido see related

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After 6 months on the move, I'm home.

I hadn't realized how long I'd been away until I stepped up to Chicago's customs terminal.  "6 months...looks like you've had quite a journey.  Welcome back to the United States"

I can't explain why, but those words seemed to carry a saddening undertone of finality.  Shouldn't returning home after half a year of unfamiliarity bring nothing but joy and relief?  Yet as he was busy stamping and checking my passport, I felt none of those feelings.  I was sad that my journey was over and nervous for what I would find in the life I left behind.  Certainly, things had changed.  I had changed.  I just wondered if our changes would complement or clash.

On the plane ride over, I could feel myself mentally preparing...desperately trying to remember what it meant to be an American, to live in America.  My mind raced to remember all our norms, our values, our mentality...and truth be told, I was saddened.  Could the person I had become survive here?  Would I have to give up the freedom I had gained while I was away?   Ironic, that in the land of the free, few of us truly are. It is here, more than anywhere else I have been, that people care more about what their peers think than what they themselves think. Where many of us let others decide our worth and struggle with who we really are, because many of us don't have a clue...

I of all people should understand.  I spent years under your scrutiny, your judgement, your rule.  Yet, after thinking it through, I realized that I'm talking at a mirror.  It isn't America or anyone,  its me.  There was nothing keeping me from being free, from ignoring their judgements, for laughing in the face of normality.  I've always had the power to be free, I just never grabbed it. 

Being abroad didn't grant me freedom, but it did grant me the time and courage to embrace myself as who I am so that freedom isn't dependent on location, but my sense of self. 

"6 months...looks like you had quite a journey.  Welcome back the the United States" 

Thank you.  Its nice to be here.

Tragedy and miracles share one thing in common; they help us see what we could not see before. 

 It is a shame that it often takes an event of severe magnitude and heartbreak for us to realize just how important and fragile life is.  Indeed, life is precious and it is astounding as it is tragic how often we forget just how important those dear to us are.  How strange that in one moment and in one life, uncountable moments and uncountable lives may be changed forever 

There is only one way to prevent this sort of heartbreak and loss, but it requires great deal of sacrifice.  One who does not love does not experience that absolute bliss of understanding and connection with another human being.  And that is perhaps one of the greatest sacrifices one could make.  As they say: live to love and love to live.

A good man was lost yesterday-a man whose time was cut short.  He left behind a family who loved him, a community that now misses him, and an untold amount of people whose lives were touched by him…mine included.  To those who were affected by yesterday’s events…my utmost and deepest condolences.