Escape

Every now and then, when I find myself in a physical environment where something really unpleasant or offensive is happening, and there’s nothing I can do to remove myself from the place, I escape into my mind.  I go to a happy place, either a memory from my past, or a dream of a future situation – either way, I flood my head with as close as I can get to euphoria. I do this as a coping mechanism. Others might light up a cigarette or plug in earphones. 

Wherever I can, I walk away, removing myself from the chaos, as I try to adopt the nonchalance of “not my circus, not my monkeys”. But, since that’s not always possible, the only place I can escape to is the safe wonderworld of my mind, where I have the power to think anything I want to, the power  to stop any unwanted thoughts, the power to insert any thoughts I choose, and the power to create a preferred reality. I can’t tell you how amazing this is.

I’ve learnt, over the years, that one of the ways in which we discover who we are, is through interaction with other people. Their behavior – or, more specifically, our response to it – gives us a lot of insight into ourselves. Through other people, we learn what it is about ourselves we like and don’t like. It feels like the older I get, and the more comfortable I am with myself, the stronger my reactions to other people’s behavior are. I’m at that strange age where, even though I’m cognisant of the many shades of grey that exist, I’ve also become increasingly clear about what I can and can’t tolerate. Sometimes I don’t even realise the intensity of my  feelings about certain behavior, until I’m confronted with it directly.

But my recourse is to lose myself in my thoughts - in MY mind, where I make the rules, where nothing is out of control, and where everything I know is possible, is possible.

Of course, I would never sit passively while anyone was being abused, but let’s face it, there are so many forms of abuse, some of them so subtle, so insidious, that we can even pretend they’re not abuse. It just depends on how you label it. Or where on the continuum you sit.

Tonight, I wish I could forget some of the vulgarity I’m exposed to, some of the underbelly-of-the-world-wrapped-up-in-finery I have to endure. I wish I could rewind a certain period of time – purge - start again, without having encountered some of the things I have.  But I know that that’s not how life goes. In a strange way, I am as strong and resilient as I am because of the ugliness and adversity I’ve been exposed to.

Recently, when I couldn’t bear the horrible energy in a certain situation, I thought back to the time when I worked as the Centre Director of someone’s language school and then the 8-month period in which I owned my own one. Besides the financial difficulties (which eventually resulted in the closure of the school), I experienced some of my highest highs in that time. What I loved most of all was the freedom, the space, the wonderful opportunity to implement all those things I knew was possible. It was fantastic. I’m so glad I have those memories. They remind me that what others think is impossible, I’ve already done. 

Those memories feed my soul when I need it most.

Of course, there’s always that other thought: if I could do it once, I could do it again.