In America, July Fourth celebrates the day that us misbehaving Colonists decided we’d had enough of being bossed around and unfairly represented, and we were going to be our own bosses now thankyouverymuch.
I’m so thankful that this 4th of July I’m safe. I’m sane. I’m healthy, I’m happy, and most importantly, I’m alive. I thrive. I bury my hands in the dirt and I release my pains. I can breathe.
What is freedom, really?
Freedom is an expression of love.
Freedom is space. Freedom is hope. Freedom is many things, but never free. The scars on my arms and the scars in my heart can say that, just as the scars caused by war say that as well. Freedom is never free from cost. Where would the value be if it was? Would it be worth what it is – an ocean of tears and blood – to be free from oppression, free from fear, free from grief?
It’s not free.
But it is worth it.
~Love, Butterfly Emergent~