I am reading Tyll, a novel by Daniel Kehlmann. It’s the story about a young boy who becomes a traveling entertainer and jester during the 16th century (medieval times) in Germany during the 30 Years War. Tyll, a Miller’s son, runs away to join a Traveling Entertainer after his father is executed for witchcraft instead of being doomed to life as an indentured farm hand.
Before accepting Tyll, the Traveler warns him. He tells Tyll that Travelers are free. Travelers are responsible for their own well being. Travelers are not bound to a life of serfdom. They owe no allegiance to a Lord, vassal or nobleman. They paid no taxes. They worked for themselves. But this freedom comes at a price. Travelers have no protection from society, from a family or from the government (nobleman/King). There are no authorities or laws that will protect them from robbery, assault or murder.
The tale of violence, hardship and living in the Middle Ages has me contemplating Tyll’s decision to live in freedom. It was rough being a member of a village, city or kingdom, much less living on the edges
But the more I thought about it, the more I connected with the Traveler’s caution – you can choose a life of freedom, but there’s a price to be paid.
I have chosen to leave a life of relative ease and comfort for a life of freedom. Since I ended my road trip, I’m no longer a Traveler, yet I still live in that space somewhere on the edge of normal society.
I made a conscious decision to live a small, quiet and frugal life alone. To do this, I’ve had to pay a price. I live without the security and comfort that I liked would have if I was still working. I have no health insurance. I have few peers and a small social network. I’m unlikely to find love again or even steady companionship due to the choices I’ve made.
I think about other people who have chosen freedom. Some have paid extremely high prices – like their lives, their families and their possessions. I am fortunate not that I never had to pay that steep of a price.
Some are seen weirdos, outcasts or social misfits. I fit into this category sometimes.
Some discovered freedom after getting wealthy from good fortune in business, by birth or chance.
All have had to pay a price.