Valuable lessons from 2011

Lesson 2: You Can't Put a Price On Freedom


"They may take our lives, but they'll never take our freedom!"  These words were ascribed to William Wallace by Randy Wallace in the blockbuster "Braveheart".  Whether Scotland's hero ever said them is incredibly dubious at best, but the sentiment is completely understandable.

Mel Gibson as William Wallace, proclaiming freedom for all Scots from Edward Longshanks' tyrannical reign

Freedom is a truly precious commodity. But it's one of those strange ones you don't appreciate until it's not there any more.

I had this in a small measure this year.  My car was out of action for a month this year, after its engine seized.  It doesn't sound so serious, but over the years, this car has become a symbol of my independence.  It's the only car I've ever owned.  I love the feeling of just being able to nip out quickly and do something, or go somewhere, or meet with someone.  So all of a sudden, to be completely housebound and totally reliant on other people was incredibly difficult for me.  When friends had the same problem I did later in the year, I loaned them my car, as I understood their loss of independence, but after 7 weeks, I honestly felt imprisoned at home, imprisoned at work.  Not necessarily because I didn't want to be there, but when I needed to do something, I was stuck.  I realised then there is no singular price that can be placed on independence or freedom.  Scooting all over the place in my car this past week, frenetic as it was, I began to cherish completely the moments this car has given me while driving.  The special, full-volumed, intense conversations with Tony on the way home from school, fun and deep conversations with Andrew, lively conversations about music and careers with Catherine, and tender, private conversations with Colin.  And even the quiet beauty of solitude - my times in prayer as I drive somewhere in silence. Or singing full volume to a CD or a song on the radio.  These are precious moments, and when for any reason I can't have them, I miss them desperately.  Tony is too distracted by all around him in the house to have the same intense chats as we share on the way home.  It's impossible to have any kind of meaningful conversation with Catherine or Andrew while Tony is interrupting every 30 seconds, and as for private, intimate chats with Colin in the house - with three kids around?  Forget it!  If my vehicle is the vehicle for such timeless moments, I will always fight to preserve that freedom. And like every freedom we have, it took my car to die a death on the side of the road for me to appreciate it.

And it's this love of freedom that makes the passing of the protection of state information bill so painful.  We have been so blessed since 1994 to live in such a democratic country, where freedom is prized. The second-last line of our national anthem is "Let us live and strive for freedom".  So a big red flag goes up when the government tries to restrict the freedom of journalists who happen to find out that members of parliament are involved in illicit dealings. Or if consumer watchdog Carte Blanche tries to get to the bottom of an issue that is "not quite kosher" at the highest level, only to find themselves falling foul of the law, and our government gets away with criminal activities.  It's my experience that those who restrict freedom of information the most, generally have the most to hide.  But again, South Africa did not appreciate this level of freedom at all until it came under threat.

​"Press freedom will never be under threat as long as the ANC is the majority party" Nelson Mandela 

On the other hand, the story goes that when North Korean president Kim Jong-II died recently, some North Koreans got their first taste of Western music, and apparently some wept while listening to Adele for the first time.  When you have no freedom at all, even the slightest freedom is deeply moving.

We have a lot to be thankful for.