Feeling trapped, freedom, and letting go

I awoke almost in tears this morning from an upsetting dream. In the dream, I was driving to work with my wife. I got confused in the heavy traffic, and we were almost in an accident. My wife was so frightened and enraged that she turned into my ex.As I lay in bed, trying to process what that dream might have been about, my eyes fell on a mounted poster that I've had for fifteen years. It's a print from a painting society exhibition in a tiny town in France. "Société Artistique de BEAUGENCY - 1988 - 20e Anniversaire". The print is of the winning painting, which I've always loved. I bought three copies of the print, and mounted one of them. I have the other two rolled up somewhere, to replace this one when it wears out. Number one has lasted me sixteen years and probably a dozen moves, and is in pretty good shape.The painting is in oil, in dull, almost drab, unsaturated grays and browns.The scene is from about two inches above the dashed white line in the middle of an asphalt country road, looking up into a sky full of gray and white clouds. Looks like rain. On the left, in the middle of the empty road, is an abandonded suitcase, sitting upright. In the middle of the scene, one end of a knotted rope lies beside the suitcase, and the rest of the rope ascends into the sky and disappears into the clouds.So the story is, someone was trudging along an empty road, carrying this somewhat battered old suitcase, when without explanation, a rope fell from the sky at his feet. Without hesitation, he simply put down the suitcase and climbed.To me, this painting has always been about freedom; about what freedom is. For most of my life, I've considered freedom to be about not being tied down by commitments. At any point, if something better comes along, I can drop that suitcase, take that opportunity, and climb into heaven. Trouble is, at the other end of that rope, seems like there's always just another suitcase. The great new job, turns into just having to go to work today, even if it's still "great". The relationship, whether it's going well or poorly, fills me with anxiety--yes, this is love, but is it love enough? What if someone else comes along and I realize I made a mistake? What if, instead of being married to an angel, I'm married to a suitcase?I think I see the error I've had in my thinking all of these years. I thought that freedom was about having options, and commitment was a problem because it cut down on options--so freedom and commitment are in tension. I think there's some truth in that, but it's only part of the truth.What I realized as I was looking at the painting this morning, is that it's also about letting go. As resistant to commitment as I've been in my life--in my career, in relationships, in consistently working on a skill--I also cling to the past. I feel regret over opportunities I lost because I didn't take on leadership and responsiblity in previous jobs to the extent I could have. I mourn some of the loves I had that I decided to not make permanent. All the suitcases I've put down, I continue to carry around, stubbornly. Makes climbing hard.In the past year, I've gotten married, changed careers, bought a new house, and moved, and now Zoe's on the way. If a baby isn't commitment, nothing is. Yet my wife, my career, my child, the mortgage--these commitments don't seem burdensome to me. They're not suitcases. Why? Because I've actively chosen them. Because each one of these things, in greater or smaller ways, are ropes that have fallen at my feet, and that I've grabbed onto and begun to climb. There's two things I have to remember. First, to let go. I can't climb a rope if I'm carrying half a dozen suitcases. And second, and most importantly, my commitments won't be burdensome if I keep choosing to be committed to them, and joy will come from that. So I'll keep climbing that rope, or, God willing, walking along that road with my wife and child. And eventually, I'll come to realize that the rope and the suitcase are the same thing.