I just wrote of freedom. Now comes unfreedom.

The blue-grey tanager in the picture is not in a cage, it is next to a fence - it can easily flit above the fence, even through the wires if it so decides. It is free. But the owner of the fence is not.

The owner of the fence feeds the birds to vicariously enjoy their freedom. The owner of the fence lives within the fence of his own choosing - an unfreedom he chose through a freedom of choice.

How he likes the birds; he marvels at how fast I pull out my camera to shoot pictures. We discuss the other birds seen. We both know birds well; he from years of inviting them into his cage and I from trying to escape my own cage. My own unfreedom.

He is accustomed to his unfreedom. I am always breaking free. And like the bird, he enjoys my company, invites me in and listens to my stories of the other parts of the world - the parts outside of his cage.

To him, I am the bird. To the bird, I am him. To me, I am both and not.

Bardo Thodol.
Chonyid Bardo.

There is no owner of the fence. There is one who chooses to claim ownership of the fence, and the fence owns him.

And still, knowing that, I am both and not.

Sometimes you see an image that captures a certain sense of something that can be expressed in words but not fully conveyed through words. Freedom is such a word - an abstract concept that we all understand in one way or another.

The trouble, probably, is in the varying definitions of freedom and what it means to an individual.

The image, by Angelica (click image to see original) captures what most people could associate with freedom. There is a sense of freedom in this photo, something that can be taken away from the image by removing any one thing.

Space.
Movement unhindered in any direction.
Choice without the need for choice.
Options without the need of options.
Everything in nothing.