Just as the first rays of light appeared on the horizon of
the Pomona Hills in California, my parents and I set out on a life-changing
adventure. It was May 1976 and I was
just under 6 years old. As we pulled
away from my first childhood home of memory, I sat buckled up in the back of
the truck that would pull the Airstream which served as our temporary housing
for the next few months.
As we drove up the west coast and across the country, coming
upon small towns, national parks and the occasional big city, the country was
celebrating its Bicentennial. One of my
fondest memories is of my Dad pulling out the CB radio he’d use to talk to
other road travelers. Sometimes it was
to get information about the area we’d be driving through and other times it
was to say a friendly hello. This was
long before the internet and cell phones, and good old-fashioned maps were our
GPS.
For my parents this was a time of freedom. My Dad was watching the orange groves of his
childhood being paved over with highways, strip malls and subdivisions. None of it aligned with my parents’ values of
a simpler lifestyle that’s more connected to nature.
While there are so many happy memories of that trip and all
the places we got to see, I also remember being afraid we would somehow get
lost and never find a home again. I
would see houses with for-sale signs and suggest to my parents that we live
there. They thought it was funny, but I knew
I wouldn’t feel completely at ease until we had a home base again. Sure enough, by the beginning of July, we
were parked at Bailey’s Campground, Maine and by the end of summer
we’d be living in our new home, thousands of miles diagonally across from the
life we knew before.
On an early evening that summer, just before dusk, I learned
to ride a bicycle. As my Dad let go of
the bike and set me free to ride on my own, Chrissy and David, our neighbor’s
kids, were cheering me on as well. The
following year I begged my parents for a Pink Huffy bicycle. My Dad knew he couldn’t afford a brand new
one and was sweating how they’d make this happen. As children we freely put our wishes out to
the universe and don’t worry about how they will manifest. We just trust it will happen. Sure enough, my Dad came across an auction at
a local police station and what should be up for bid, but a Pink Huffy!
Freedom comes to us in many ways. It comes with making a big change and letting
go of life as you know it. It comes as a
state of mind no matter your outer circumstances. It comes as a felt sense that the universe has
your back, so you are free to follow your bliss. Freedom requires taking ownership of your story
and the challenges you overcome, the sacrifices you make and the risks you
take. Some of the most powerful thinkers
and changemakers in history have had to overcome the darkest of circumstances in
order to free themselves and others. That
summer of the Bicentennial was my first lesson in what it means to be free both
personally and as a citizen. Little did
I know how much more I would have to learn on the topic and am still learning
to this day.
On a personal level, manifesting that Pink Huffy was a
milestone. I could set out on my own
adventures on a summer afternoon, knowing I had the security of my family and
home to return to.
My journey so far has taught me that you’re never completely
stuck in life. Each day, each breath is
an opportunity to shift your thinking, embody a new feeling and move in the
direction of your bliss even if it’s just an inch. That is the ultimate freedom.
