Freedom Fighters Do Cry

The last time I cried was this morning at 8:25.  Not sad tears but joyful tears. As the plane touched down beside the azure blue sea in Sydney I thought to myself how grateful I am. How grateful I am for my freedom and choice and life and courage and spirituality and everything and everyone I have in my life today. It wasn’t always like this. I didn’t always cry tears of joy.

These days I’m a freedom fighter. I fight for the freedom to live a life well dreamed. A life well-intentioned.  I also fight for recovery. Mostly my own as it’s an inside job but I fight for others too. I stand up. I cheer. I yell. I love. I hold the vision for others.  If you’ve ever had the privilege of witnessing the transformation of another person who chooses their own life over alcoholism or addiction or poor choice or smallness; then you know greatness. You know what’s like to stand at the coalface of human endeavour and see the hand of a power greater than oneself.

Share

Subscribe

Get the only nonsense and ramblings of a part-time feminist that anyone actually understands. (Swearing is complimentary!)

Recent Posts

More on alcoholism

The Third Tradition of Alcoholics Anonymous states that the “only requirement for A.A. membership is a desire to stop drinking”.  Let’s take a look at

Thoughts in Recovery & Addiction

Addiction and for me alcoholism, is something that’s been in my family for generations. It’s not something I’d ever paid attention to before. It wasn’t