A Thought on Freedom

I know what it means to be an American, and I know what it means to be free. I know what is offered, and I know what is taken. I know that my eyes are starving for beauty, and I know that  beauty is all around.  You cannot tell me what "deserving" is, that word does not exist for me. I have been misjudged, underestimated, set-up, blamed, neglected, selfishly loved, overworked, underpaid, played for a fool, and left out to dry. I know my heart is not hard, I still give people the benefit of the doubt, and I have joy, real joy. It doesn't come from anything that I rely on or believe in, it's just there. It was there when I was little, before I learned about religion, before anything. I was just happy to "be". After a multitude of lessons, some good/some bad, it is still there.  In my angriest moments, when my bowl of disappointment is overflowing, it remains. It's what really keeps me grounded. It's what I always come back to. It keeps me free, even though sometimes my life is not my own.  At least I think it's joy. It's that warm, sure feeling. No matter what is going on around me, and no matter how far down I've been, it's that little fire that never went out.  It's singing because it feels good to sing, smiling because smiling is nice, and doing things for other people because it feels good. It's random acts of kindness for others, and knowing I deserve to be kind to myself. It's knowing that no matter how hard things seem sometimes, life is still the greatest gift, and I am glad to be here. I may not have all of the answers, but that's ok.