Freedom of speech is complicated, especially when it hits the lips and pens of politicians.
Freedom of thought, however, is simply what you will pretty much automatically do because you are human.
How well you think, that’s another subject or problem.
Others might want to label your thoughts and how you express them – we call these your opinions.
And these labels can encourage or discourage you, but they ultimately will not stop you from thinking your own thoughts – unless . . .
Unless you give these con artists your permission.
Giving your permission is another way of describing truly free you are. You can give or withhold permission. Even in prison.
For those who wish to manipulate the thinking of others to control them, i.e., to get them to do what they want, one useful technique is to tell people they have no choices — that the game is rigged and that they are victims.
This, of course, is never true.
What is true is that the choices can be terrible ones. You might have to pick the best of the worst choice available in the moment.
Jesus did this in the Garden of Gethsemane.
What were his choices?
Deny following His Father’s will and continue to live a little while longer, but be able avoid the pain of the cross, or
Go to the cross, suffer, and come out the other end having been consistent with his beliefs and principles.
It was only after he made his choice to obey his Father’s plan that we all would then have the opportunity to see what it was he had done and how his choice made an earthshattering difference in the lives of many from that time to now.
If you have been following along in the past few days my wanderings through Burnt Norton, following Eliot as he followed the little bird into the garden that wasn’t really there, you might be wondering what my point is in all of this.
This is where my permission to you comes in.
Even though I find T. S. Eliot interesting personally, you don’t have to.
In fact, the more I study his life and writings, the more I find in him an interesting academic twist.
Eliot liked to tweak intellectuals.
It is well accepted that he himself was an acknowledged intellectual by fellow intellectuals, but this didn’t stop him from loving to send his peers off on little rabbit trails.
He might place a reference to something in a line somewhere in one of his plays or poems that would cause highbrow researchers to spend months in library cubicles (before the Internet) reading obscure passages from other obscure books. Later in interviews he would dismiss these ideas as unimportant to his main points.
Just keep this in mind. Eliot wanted his works to be understandable to more than a few.
Often the most obvious options of interpretation are the best.
Of course, there is rarely a right answer.
This doesn’t discount my personal temptation and joy, to follow rabbit trails. Sometimes these pay off. Usually, they do not – at least in immediately identifiable ways.
But here is my permission (as if you really need it).
Take what you like and leave the rest.
Allow your own inclinations guide you to interesting writers and other artists who can draw out from you worlds of interesting thoughts and ideas.
Because none of this is life-and-death, enjoy the ride and take your own rabbit trails as your heart desires. If you do this long enough, it will change you. You will find the pleasure of pursuing intellectual topics – like languages, literature, art, music, and so much more.
Finally, a phrase from Burnt Norton I find fascinating.
Garlic and sapphires in the mud
Clot the bedded axle-tree.
Let’s break this one apart tomorrow, shall we?