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.

Oh Forty, why are you approaching so swiftly?!

I have recently read a highly entertaining book entitled “Fat, Forty and Fired” by Nigel Marsh. Former work mates gave it to me on my last day, as it was applicable to the situation I was heading towards. Although I am neither fat, forty or fired I understood the sentiment and accepted the gift. It proved to be great read, full of humour, insight, and sadness; however the ending was disappointing as for over 200 pages Marsh had strived to build a better life, be more in touch with his family, achieve personal goals and just as he is reaching the summit of his achievement mountain he accepts a job and regresses back to his former self. It was like he was saying you can attempt to swim against the tide but ultimately you will be swept back downstream. This was a devastating blow as I had followed his progress with a lot of inner “well done Nigel” and “way to go, I can do that too” – to be faced with hopelessness at the end is disappointing.

However, enough on Nigel Marsh and onto the subject of 40. I recently calculated that I am closer now to 50 than I am to my last day of High School – an interesting, sobering and in some ways, terrifying proposition. In a short 6 years I will be 40 and 6 years does not seem that far away.

I always imagined 40 as a time when I would have a house, dog (or cat), wife, and kiddies. That is not to say this will still not happen, but it is not looking that way at the moment. The key to this is that it is no longer a problem as times change, we change, and our priorities change.

In 1985, when I was 10, life was much simpler. My days consisted of eating jam sandwiches, playing run across or handball, riding my bike and fighting with my sisters. To be 35, let alone 40, seemed a world away and I guess, in a way, it was. We put a time capsule in the ground at my primary school where it was to stay for 25 years, the year 2010, when it would be opened. I imagined returning to the school playground in 2010, hopping out of my hover car, ably driven by my robot servant, and catching up with my schoolmates of 1985. I may very well attend the surfacing of the time capsule later this year, however the hover car and robot may be noticeably absent.

It is funny how much the future does not resemble what we imagined. Many times it is better than expected so it is not all doom and gloom. I think it does show that age should not be a limiting factor, an invisible barrier or yardstick we are confined or ruled by. Age is just a measurement and nothing more. How many people have defied their age to perform amazing feats?

Yes I am very close to 40, but what does that matter? It really has no bearing on my life unless I have an expiry date of November 2015 and no one has told me. If that is the case, I have work to do…you can find me in the garage, I have a hover car and robot servant to invent.