Today’s Daily Stoic writing prompt: If I lost my freedom, would it break me?

This is where I really give the side-eye at people who say that wearing a mask means a loss of freedom.

Really.

If that tiny gesture to acknowledge one’s fellow human beings in the midst of a pandemic is enough to break them, what would a real loss of freedom mean?

That aside–it’s hard to tell exactly what I would do in actual captivity. Would I stand by my principles? Would I find a way to survive? The loss of freedom itself wouldn’t break me, but threats to those I love? That’s different. That’s a hard one. And one that I lack the data and experience to answer properly.

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A relaxed day. A walk on the local trails, my D&D game, and then research for the Montreal trip, which is just a week from now. I’ve decided I want to go at least drive by some of the Olympics venues that I last saw in 1976. We’ll be taking a ride on a giant Ferris wheel the night we arrive, and then visiting Mont Royal park on the next day. We want to check out a few shops, maybe grab some tourtiere to take home, have brunch at the same breakfast spot we visited last time, and then my concert in the evening.

But before that, a week of the ol’ grind to get through.

I’ve started the next Cat of Brutalism. I think this one will go faster than the last one. In fact, I have a goal in mind: to put in the last stitches while I’m in Montreal (since the piece features Olympic Stadium), and to put in the first stitches of the next piece. I think it’s doable.

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