Stuck on the concrete

So, a couple of days ago, we had this miniature ice storm that was conveniently scaled down from 12 inches of snow to a tenth of an inch of ice, after I spent all of this money at the grocery store stocking up on easy things to cook and junk food for when we got stuck in the house for several days.  Well, due to this monstrous cold I had, I hadn't even been outside of the house since the Thursday before the ice hit our town.  After feeling all refreshed from several days of being cooped inside four walls, I was reenergized and ready to go to work and have my freedom back outside of my own home.  With my cold weather clothes on, including my favorite pair of brown corderoy pants and my stylish Rainbow boots, I get out to my car, only to realize that I am stuck on the concrete.  With about a quarter of an inch of ice stuck to my entire car and the same amount of snow stuck to the concrete on every inch of my driveway with the exception of the small space under my full-size car, it was evident that my car wasn't about to go anywhere. 

I stood there for about five minutes trying to figure out what I was going to do.  There was something inside of me that was encouraging me to attempt to move the car anyway, no matter how much ice was on the ground preventing me from moving forward.  As I warmed my car up for thirty minutes, there wasn't a thought in my mind that was discouraging this insane idea of mine. 

There is a sense of freedom and happiness and joy that comes from me knowing that I can make a choice and not have to get it cosigned by anybody else.  Regardless of the fact that if I had actually moved my car and probably completely wrecked it up against the brick wall that aligns on each side of the driveway on the way up the drive, I was content knowing that I was making a decision that I had chosen to make.  There is beauty behind making your own decisions and living by those decisions that have been made.  It is a feeling that is almost indiscribable, but it feels so good to be able to do such a thing.  I am confident that in times when we are held in captivity or keep ourselves in a situation that is unhealthy for us, we fail to think for ourselves.  It's sad, really.  To know that the decisions that you made were based off of what someone else would have thought about them, is not really your decision.  In those five minutes that I was standing beside "Betty White," the name I call my car, and had made the decision to actually move her, there was nobody around.  There wasn't anybody that I could've ran that idea by.  There didn't need to be.  In that moment, I felt a sense of liberation from all of the second guessing that I had done so many times in my life because I was living in captivity.  I was free!

So, although I was inconveniently stuck on the concrete, I was actually freed from thinking for somebody else and finally, for the first time in a long time, thought for myself and the freedom behind that was incredible.