Sometimes freedom of choice doesn't feel so freeing...

Image by Micha from Pixabay

Recently I spent a good part of my weekend visiting with three friends who for various reasons did not have access to a car and/or were confined to their current location. I enjoyed every minute I spent with them, and I was grateful I have access to a vehicle and freedom to drive in this rural setting. At the same time, I also was surprised to feel a bit envious of their limitations.

My first stop was to see someone who had a health setback and was living in an assisted living facility. Each time I pay her a visit, I walk in telling myself, “I have a lot to get done today, so keep it quick.” Nearly an hour later, I have completely lost track of time chatting about this and that and catching up on a bit of gossip. On this particular day, I found myself looking around at her small suite and thinking how manageable it would be to have just a kitchenette, bedroom and living room. Wouldn't it be convenient to just ride the elevator down a couple floors, pour a cup of tea and sit on the patio. 

My next destination was to a friend, who is in residential limbo and staying about 20 minutes away from me. I picked them up and we ran some errands then stopped for breakfast and coffee. It was nice just to leisurely go from place to place getting a few simple tasks done without a sense of urgency. We sat for a while and caught up with each other. Once again, my imagination wandered to a situation where I had nothing but time on my hands to read or walk or contemplate. 

My final rendez-vous was to a third friend who is temporarily unable to drive and had been feeling stranded. We drove to the trail and strolled for a while, then we stopped at a restaurant for lunch. The weather was nice, so we took our drinks out on the lawn and talked. Sometimes we just sat in silence and people watched. The feeling bubbled up again. How much of a relief it would be to have no choice but to bide my time in a beautiful and peaceful setting without no means of leaving.

I empathized with each of my friends and their individual situations. I appreciated that this was not something they chose. They were forced into their confinement suddenly with no choice in the matter and with little control over how long it will last. I would likely feel the same.

But there is no denying my jealousy. What would I give to trade places with any of them for a week or even a few days. To be isolated in the woods, or a small walkable village, or a retirement community with some goddam peace and quiet.

When I get right down to it, it’s not even the idealistic setting that I yearn for. It’s their limited ability to say yes to things. For all my work on setting boundaries, I have a hard time saying no when I have the means to participate. It seems like there is always a compelling reason to say yes.

“We haven’t seen each other in months!”

“This is the only date that works for everyone.”

“If I miss this chance, when will we have another opportunity?”

How helpful and freeing it would be to be able to say honestly and confidently, “No, I’m not able to do that.”

I’ve heard a sign of maturity is being able to hold two feelings at the same time. I’m grateful for my able body and my valid driver license AND sometimes I’m ungrateful for the freedom of choice that comes with them.