Consider for a moment the chair you're sitting on. It appears solid, stable, and independent. Yet, at the quantum level, it's a vibrating collection of particles, mostly empty space. Our perception of solidity is, in many ways, an illusion - a useful one that allows us to navigate the world, but an illusion nonetheless.Similarly, our notions of freedom often rest on assumptions about the nature of reality and our place within it. We tend to think of freedom as a fixed state - something we either have or don't have. But what if freedom, like the chair, is more fluid and complex than it appears?
Just as language and music are human constructs that have evolved over time, freedom too can be seen as an evolving concept. It's not something that exists independently of human minds, but rather something we've created and continue to shape through our collective understanding and practices.This doesn't make freedom any less real. Language is undeniably real - it shapes our thoughts, allows us to communicate complex ideas, and has profound effects on our world. Music, too, is a human creation that moves us deeply, transcending cultural boundaries. Freedom, in this light, can be seen as equally real and impactful.
Our experience of freedom, like our experience of reality itself, is constructed moment by moment through complex interactions of perception, cognition, and cultural conditioning. We're not passive observers of a fixed reality, but active participants in creating our experience.This understanding opens up fascinating possibilities. If freedom is something we construct, then by changing how we construct our experience, we can potentially expand our sense of freedom. It's not about discovering some pre-existing, independent state of freedom, but about cultivating the conditions that allow freedom to emerge and evolve.
One powerful approach to expanding our freedom involves a process we might call "unbuilding." This means systematically questioning and dismantling our assumptions about reality, the self, and freedom itself.For example, we might start by examining our notion of a fixed, independent self. As we look closely, we may find that this self is more fluid and interdependent than we thought. This realization can be unsettling at first, but it also opens up new possibilities for freedom. If the self isn't fixed, then neither are its limitations.
Interestingly, this journey towards greater freedom often involves embracing a kind of groundlessness. As we let go of fixed notions about reality and ourselves, we may initially feel adrift. But this very groundlessness can become a source of profound liberation.Think of a skilled improviser in music or dance. Their freedom comes not from rigidly adhering to a set structure, but from their ability to move fluidly within an open field of possibilities. Similarly, our deepest freedom may come from learning to navigate the fluid, interdependent nature of reality with grace and skill.
Viewed this way, freedom becomes less a state to achieve and more a skill to cultivate. Like learning a language or mastering an instrument, it requires practice, patience, and a willingness to make mistakes and learn from them.This practice involves developing our capacity to see clearly, to question our assumptions, and to remain open to new possibilities. It's about learning to dance with uncertainty rather than always seeking solid ground.
As our understanding of freedom evolves, so too does our sense of ethical responsibility. If we see ourselves as deeply interconnected with others and the world around us, then our pursuit of freedom naturally extends beyond personal liberation to encompass the wellbeing of all.This expanded view of freedom doesn't diminish personal agency. Rather, it enriches it by connecting our individual choices to a larger web of meaning and impact.
In conclusion, I invite you to consider freedom not as a fixed state, but as an evolving symphony that we're all participating in creating. Like music, it emerges from the interplay of structure and improvisation, individual expression and collective harmony.As we continue to explore and expand our understanding of freedom, we contribute to this ongoing composition. Each insight, each moment of letting go, each act of compassion becomes a note in this grand symphony of human potential.

Human freedom is real—as real as language, music, and money—so it can be studied objectively from a no-nonsense, scientific point of view. But like language, music, money, and other products of society, its persistence is affected by what we believe about it. So it is not surprising that our attempts to study it dispassionately are distorted by anxiety that we will clumsily kill the specimen under the microscope. Human freedom is younger than the species. Its most important features are only several thousand years old—an eyeblink in evolutionary history—but in that short time it has transformed the planet in ways that are as salient as such great biological transitions as the creation of an oxygen-rich atmosphere and the creation of multicellular life. Freedom had to evolve like every other feature of the biosphere, and it continues to evolve today. Freedom is real now, in some happy parts of the world, and those who love it love wisely, but it is far from inevitable, far from universal. If we understand better how freedom arose, we can do a better job of preserving it for the future, and protecting it from its many natural enemies.
Freedom, Reality and the Razor’s Edge
A Dharma Talk by Rob Burbea
Practice is uncovering what it is in the mind that builds suffering and self and experience, and then learning to actually not build.
Meditation Practice
Set a conscious intention at the beginning of your meditation session to be more aware of when your mind starts to wander. This deliberate commitment to mindfulness will help you recognize more quickly when your attention has drifted from your intended focus, allowing you to gently bring it back to the present moment with greater frequency and skill.