Escape

I was making my bed this morning and out of the covers flew a butterfly. It was a strange thing to appear out of a bedspread and I watched it apprehensively flutter around my room and rest on the windowsill. Try as I may I could not coax it to fly out the open window. For the butterfly, the idea of escape has not entered its mind; it was content to stay on the windowsill, in the comforts of my room. I thought that it would be happier outside – as butterflies obviously have feelings – but on the outside there are all matter of foes. Children, birds and small animals all pose a threat to the butterfly; all reside just outside the window. Knowing it would surely perish inside without food I coaxed the butterfly outside. It had an escape, even if that was not in its original plans.

I have always been trying to escape from something. For too long the grass was greener on the other side of the fence. I am not sure why; it was just the norm for most of my life. A life, upon reflection that has been a blessed one and far more comfortable and fortunate than 99% of the worlds population.

What makes our generation so restless?

What is it we are hoping to find out there?

Many of my school and university friends are unmarried, unsettled, and not dissimilar to how they were ten to fifteen years ago. They have not been idle; travelling the world, been in and out of love, had rewarding careers, cultivated meaningful relationships. But they have not settled down, laid roots, or anchored themselves to someone or somewhere. Is this a form of escape, an unwillingness to conform to society’s rules or an inability to commit? Does is matter that they are not settled? Is being unsettled the way it is now for our generation, the way it will be moving forward?

For me, change is refreshing, not challenging or terrifying. Change is an escape. The ability to live another life, see how other people live, experience their jobs, cities, friends. Escape from one thing can result in stability somewhere else. Many people fear change; they need the regularity of routine. To them the idea of escaping consists of an annual holiday or buying a different brand of cereal. There is nothing wrong with this; I envy these people to a degree. To have contentment must be wonderful. To wake up each day, doing the same routine and be genuinely happy must be a great feeling.

The search continues, and for me it is an exciting journey. Escaping will continue to be a part of my life, in many forms, and that is OK.