When i was a child, my mother would tell me that she'd love to be a bird. She imagines flying around a freedom like no other: the ultimate freedom. A lot of people agree. Throughout my life i would and have encountered many wannabe birds. Classmates, teachers, aunts, uncles, cousins, estranged relatives all soaring through the sky.
I never got it.
I never wanted to go anywhere.
(I dont even have a fear of heights.)
Dont get me wrong: i was never content with my life. This wasnt some kind of i-love-my-region dicksucking. Yes,
the region i grew up in is affluent and i am never not grateful, but my life has always been lacking. It
is almost strange that i never dreamt of flying away. (To take off lightly. Mentally playing lo-fi beats. A
light breeze stroking my hair. And then to look down at the pointillist painting i
made with altitudes help. And to know i could go anywhere. The perfect escape.) Some kind of icarian
dream.Because i know, wherever i go, i take myself with me. And i dont like that. Like they say in that one overplayed Adam Sandler SNL skit:
if you are sad where you are, and then you get on a plane to italy, the you in italy will be the same sad you from before. Just in a new place. I remember telling my friends this. We were having a conversation about moving far, far away. And they, birds that they are, said they would love to have a fresh start. Gone girl but wholesome. (My best friend would want to live in France in the Alps. High high up in a cabin. She would walk down the mountain every day and go to her job as village doctor. Helping people is appearantly still a part of the dream.) They called me "deep" for refusing to participate in the escapist fantasy. As if acknowledging that i am deeply unhappy has any kind of introspective weight. I clip my own wings before learning how to fly.
That was a while ago though.
Now that im in uni, i am much happier. And i have met many people from different countries. While i stayed in the safety of my own region, they travelled many miles to study in a completely unknown region. For them this was their moment to leave the nest, so to say.
I went on a walk, like i often do. It really helps with your mental health ive found. I remember the sun going down and thinking contently about my life. I've been considering moving out you see. Independance seems nice. Looking at my friends - who can get up late, decide what they want to eat, leave partys at 4am - i get kind of jealous. I was about to cross a road (one of the only car ones where i was walking), and had just come out from under the trees. The sky was clear for me to see. I look to my left. I look to my right. Look left again. In the corner of my eye i catch a big bird. The ones you dont see *very* often. A heron or a stork, i still dont know the difference. For a second. And just a second, as the bird aligned with a road sign pointing up, i remember thinking
that must be nice, to fly.
Sometimes, you need comfort, before freedom.
Flying must feel good. But its not going to make you better.
