If You Want To Be Free

If you want to be free, do not talk to me about how high the prison walls are. Do no talk to me about how cruel and strong the jailer is. If you want to be free, do not tell me how long you have been in jail, or how many others are in jail. If you want to be free, do not complain about the bad food in the jail, or the small cell, or how no man could be expected to live like this.

If you want to be free, do not wait for a pardon. Do not wait for the jail to burn down. If you want to be free, do not tell me about all the escapes that have gone awry. Do not tell me how dangerous the road outside the jail is. If you want to be free, do not tell me how many others are in jail. Do not tell me how the system is fixed, how no one catches a break, how you either get lucky or you don't.

And if you want to be free, do not tell me how lonely your freedom might be. Do no tell me how no one will want you once you are over the wall. If you want to be free, do not cry for yourself in the night. Do not form friendships around misery, clubs of opposition.

If you want to be free, if that's what you want, walk out of the jail. The jailer does not hold the key. The walls are not high. If you want to be free, walk out. There is no key. The jailer is only there to convince you the cell is locked. He is very good at it, and you have been a willing listener. If you want to be free, the door has always been open.

Walk out along the road you choose. If you want company, walk out in broad daylight, through the yard, below every window. Then, perhaps, others will follow. Do not worry about the jailor. Do not hate him either. If you leave and others follow, one after the other after the other, the tide will soon push all the rest out, and then the jailer will find himself alone, and then he too must follow, or be left behind.