freedom

«Sometimes, a person reaches a point in their life when it becomes absolutely essential to get the fuck out of the city.» (A Psalm for the Wild Built)

I had reached that point last week. I was so fed up with everything lately that at first I thought I needed at least six months to break free. That’s how long it takes to walk the Pacific Crest Trail. And some day I might – but not right now. Then I thought, I needed at least four weeks to do some meaningful pro-bono work down in Africa to reconnect to a purpose. And one day I might – but not yet. I was convinced I needed 11 days in silence to help me recharge. Turns out all I needed were three. Three days and three nights all by myself, immersed in nature. Carrying all my belongings on my back like a snail. Three days and three nights is all it took. 



Sometimes we need to experience scarcity to feel abundance. I did not need a vacation, I needed an adventure. And the difference between recreation and adventure is the tickling sensation in your gut. It’s not a day at the spa. Adventure asks for sacrifices in comfort and ease. The difference is a pinch of the unknown – and tapping into the unknown is what makes you look differently at your life afterwards. And that’s what I was really craving deep down. 

Three nights and four days later I am done with my trip. I could stay for a couple more nights. Everything is taken care of at home. I could keep walking, visit a city, hang out at a hotel reading a book. But I don’t want to. I got what I wanted: a pocket full of freedom. 

Mine happens to come in the shape of a tent on a meadow under the stars. My phone’s battery is at 4% – and I barely manage to keep it from dying with the help of a portable solar panel strapped to my backpack. Just sent a quick message here and there. Yes, mom, I am still alive. Meanwhile, my heart’s battery has risen to 93%. After just one day out in the beautiful Swiss wilderness my senses are heightened. The food tastes so differently, I start to distinguish the songs of birds in the morning, I take in the smells of the forest, so subtle we tend to ignore them. 



What does your pocket of freedom look like? Taking the car keys and driving with no destination in mind? Declining an invite and binge-reading on the sofa instead? Dancing in an elevator like no one is watching? Are you looking for truth, vastness, depth, passion?

I used to say my decision currency in life was joy. Recently, I reworked my mantra to: What makes me feel most alive? Being alive isn’t always joyful. It involves feeling all the feelings, dealing with disappointments and the art of melting down (more about that in my next newsletter 🙂 I believe the world is filled with people starving for life. Yet, there are so many ways to keep ourselves numb. All sorts of addictions (from sugar to work), all sorts of excuses we make and lies we tell (which usally turn out to be some kind of masked fear), all sorts of trauma we refuse to face.

For me, the big question in life boils down to: How alive are we willing to be? And adventure happens to be a great catalyst, a defibrillator if you will. Yes, adventures do come at a price. After about 120km of trail walking in four days, mine is measured in tick bites and blisters, in bruises and scratches. And I think it’s a bargain compared to the value I got in return. Which price are you willing to pay for a pocket full of freedom? A tough conversation with a loved one or your boss? Two weeks of salary? A bit of FOMO? Getting dirty or looking silly?

When we feel stuck, we often think we need to turn our entire life around to regain some momentum. Small changes can be the most radical ones. How can you prototype a taste of freedom that carries you for a while and maybe even creates a ripple effect in your life?

Is it a diving lesson at the local pool? Camping in your own backyard? Exploring a place you’ve never been in your city? Skinny dipping in the lake at night? What would make you feel more alive right now? What do you want to free yourself from – if only for a little while? Consider this:

What would you do…
… if you weren’t scared and had nothing to lose?
… all your responsibilities were taken care of?
… you did not think what others thought or nobody was looking?
… you could silence your parents› voices in your head?

And what would the smallest version of this desire look like? 

I hope you can treat yourself to a scoop of freedom this month. If so, I’d love to hear about it. 

Lots of love,
Tanja

This text was first published in my though-letter Tanja’s Butterflies (June Edition 2024 ). If you are interested in receiving the next editions in your inbox including additional resources such as inspiring quotes, books and more, you can subscribe here.