When we dream, is that true freedom, or another box of our mind

Dreaming while awake, or living while dreaming?

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

When I was young, I was always afraid of others judging me. We were dirty, but we had manners. We were poor, but we had love.

We bathed once a week on Sundays. Bathing in our house was a chore; that is why it was reserved for once a week.

We had to carry the water from the watering hole to the stove and heat it; then, all four kids had to bathe in the same water. It was black after we all got out of it.

My mother used to bathe in the crick. We would go to the river in the summers, and I remember her and her soap bar looking for a spot of privacy.

I have seen people doing this here also, bathing in the crick. The way all of our ancestors did, way back.

I often think of how the nomadic tribes lived and how free they must have been. I feel that a part of my soul remembers living then.

A time before civilization came, how glorious it must have been. There are times in my life when I want to roam wild and free, yet the constraints of modern-day living hold me back.

The comfort of my bed. The availability of the internet, the ability to turn on a stove when I need fire, and turn on a…