Widely known as a symbol of American struggle for liberty, Henry protested British tyranny and served in the Continental Congress. He was the most vocal voice in opposition of The Stamp Act, passed by the British Parliament on March 22, 1765. Don't know about the Stamp Act? Google it and tomorrow, ask any history teacher. Although the actual cost of the Stamp Act was relatively small, Henry and his supporters were most outraged by the standard it appeared to set for future taxation without representation.
My main focus today is not about taxes, but rather, the very last line in Mr. Patrick's speech that has my mind percolating today. Here was a man who publicy declared that he would rather die than have his liberties taken away. Far too many soldiers or war casualties including uninvolved civilians have already paid the ultimate sacrifice in the name of freedom in this and many other countries. Ironically, today is also the anniversary of Adolph Hitler coming into power in Germany. How's that for irony?
To boil this down further, I'm thinking about the chains we ALL have, which enslave us to ourselves. The word "liberty" need not always be associated with national democracy. It is also a word about those things from which we need to be liberated. Some are tangible things: fancy homes or cars, a closet full of clothing or a colorful pair of shoes for every outfit. How many of our kids have so many toys we moms can secretly "steal" a few and donate them without our wee ones ever noticing? How many men have season tickets, X-boxes, gadgets for their Weber grills, the best lawnmowers on the block or golf clubs they polish with pride?
Other attachments are intangible and to me, these are the most dangerous enslavements with which we live. How many of us have inner demons, such as addictions or anger? What about our pride? Our fears? Our passionate love affairs with someone or with those who choose not to love us back, bringing out yet another fear...loneliness? Our greed or petty jealousies? Aren't we all really crying out in the depths of our souls to liberate ourselves from SOMETHING? And in denying ourselves this type of liberty, even if it's not physical death, aren't we spiritually killing our inner psyches?
Right now, as I'm packing for the 2nd move in 6 months, I am in desperate need of my own liberty: I'm crying out to liberate myself from my sentimental attachment to all things representing my past. My grandmother's little address book, in which nearly every name is no longer relevant, as these people are long gone. My mom's old makeup bag, which still carries her scent. My dad's valentine's day card to me from 1973. My daughter's first drawing. MY first drawing ( long kept locked away in a hope chest.)
Many people to whom I've whined about how difficult it is for me to prepare for this move have a refreshing way to look at this: It is a great time to PURGE. And yet for me, it is hard to pack up and move into new surroundings without bringing my past life along with me. I am chained to my own nostalgic baggage. Tossing Mom's old makeup bag is, to me, like reliving mom's death, and somehow, losing her all over again. Purging unearths in me an inner fear that in letting go of these things, I am losing a part of who I used to be. Perhaps it's a fear that someday I may not remember them at all. Or maybe I'm fearful that, like some of my dearest friends' parents or grandparents suffering from memory loss or dementia, I may NEED these things to REMIND me of who I was all those years ago.
For many, having a child later in life is a blessing (it is for me!) It can also cause us to have a rational fear about how that child might see us in the future. I have a six year old who someday might not know that her mommy used to do cool things in high school and college because I either won't remember I did them or I won't have anything to prove I actually did them.
I know people who carry grudges with friend or family members. These grudges go back so far they can't even remember how they started. Now these people fear it's too late to dredge it all up and risk their pride to reach out to the people to whom they no longer speak. So they're attached to fears and pride. (And to angry grudges that no longer make sense.)
People ask me how I am able to remain friendly with former loves from my past. Here is where I am blessed. I do not carry grudges, I do not, nor does my husband, feel I am committing anything wrong by remaining in contact with them because I've evolved from who I was when I was with them, romantically. Here is where I LOVE Facebook. I do not see it as some vast conspiracy from the government to "know" everything about me. Newsflash: They already do. (OK, I'll give my friends and family a moment to flush water on their faces and stand back up after fainting...because YOU KNOW how passionate I am about politics...)
With Facebook, it not only allows me to stay in touch wth my family and friends on a daily basis from back home in Michigan but I am reconnecting with childhood friends, as well. I've caught up with former teachers I adored while growing up. With former co-workers, college friends and career colleagues. With relatives who aren't even on my Christmas card list because it's been too long to fathom since we've last seen each other. And yes, I am friends with former boyfriends. Why not? I'm not carrying torches for these men who are now husbands and fathers. I hope that to them, I am a person who taught them as much about their relationships and interactions as they once taught me. I have been given the gift from God to see each and every person from my past as someone who was there for a reason or a season (look it up....this is one of my favorite poems.)
Perhaps Facebook is the very vehicle through which I can make it easier to purge some tangible objects. Just knowing I have "friends" from my past who remember "the me I used to be." I love looking on the pages of other friends who, like me, will copy and download old pictures, poems, drawings, things from their past. You see, I am not alone in my attempt to hang on to my past. As long as, 25 years from now, I don't wind up looking like Delta Dawn wearing a faded rose from years gone by...it's worth a try. :)
So today, I challenge you all to liberate yourselves from something...anything you feel is keeping you from being the YOU that you want to be, ultimately. Take 20 minutes to call or look up someone with whom you've lost contact; donate that designer bag you paid way too much for that no longer goes with anything in your wardrobe -- perhaps another woman who cannot afford such a luxury might be thrilled to find it at a thrift shop. Give the guy next door pushing a 20-year-old lawnmower some of your "tools" from the garage. Ask someone for help with an addiction with which you struggle.
Just LIBERATE YOURSELF! I certainly will be doing my darndest to liberate MY "stuff" as box up "stuff" from our apartment before moving into our new home and I know for certain that Patrick Henry would be proud, knowing his words were not uttered in vain.
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