Was he free? Was he happy? *
I’m not a formally educated person. I have not been to university. All I have is my own experience of the world, and I have yet to meet any He or She who is free. So he probably was not free. But this probably makes him like ninety-nine per cent of the world’s population, so I don’t think we have to get bent out of shape about the state of his freedom.
Let us consider, instead, his happiness. It’s tricky. A lot of us wouldn’t recognize happiness if it hit us in the face, and he was an ordinary man, and so this also applies to him. Often he was indeed happy, but he didn’t realize it until these moments had passed. His happiness was always something he was reflecting on. Except for this once: He packed a small bag, made some sandwiches and a flask of something hot to drink, and set off in his car for Sherwood Forest. It was the first time he had been in his car driving a long distance to simply spend a few days alone, and it made him feel happy. He put on some music that he loved and revved the engine at stoplights. He had told no one he was going. And so no one could find him. Once he got to the forest, he unpacked his lunch and sat beneath the canopy of trees and munched on cheese sandwiches and sipped on sweet tea. I feel happy, he thought. And he was.
* From “The Unknown Citizen” by W.H. Auden