The very word "escapism" can evoke a negative connotation in our society, as we often associate it with excessive behavior of one sort or another. But I think it's a necessary fact of life, one we all need to maintain balance against the demands of families and careers. When I'm escaping, regardless of the method, I feel a grand sense of relief, that there is another way to exist outside of stressful deadlines and the demanding cube environment. It makes those days worth it.
After just one vacation day from work, I find myself blissful with domestication and family. Cubicle life is worlds away as I clack at the keys in a tidied living room amongst sleepy pets, enjoying the smell of simmering chili I realize how easily I could lose myself in the keeping of the house, and how odd that the very jail cell women fought to leave is the same one I seek to return to as I flee from a different sort of prison. I could just as easily lose myself in a novel, or a movie, or a nap...but today I escape by simply being here in the present.
During the week, I find it nearly impossible to do anything productive. My mind and sensibility are totally wiped clean from a day in the cube, and the need to escape into something simple grips me with an unspeakable strength. On the good days, I escape into a workout or a walk with the dog, where I am able to wear my body to catch up with the weariness of my mind. On bad ones, I find myself escaping into a bottle of wine and television, unable to do anything except passively forget the stress and absorb the onslaught of primetime's mediocrity.
A day like today serves as the perfect middle ground between the two, where I am able to escape into my home, leaving my energetic imprint on it as I wipe away dust and fill it with healthy food smells. I am surrounded by contentment as cat and dog doze and music plays softly on the stereo. I know that next time I'm chained to the cube, I will stare out the window and remember this moment, escape back into it and hopefully retrieve the feeling it brings.
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