It occurred to me this morning that I’m not so much living in an escape room - rather an escape life. Except I’m not really trying to escape - just becoming increasingly aware of guard rails in all directions. Of course they’re not outwardly obvious, in the same way as a locked door - they’re cloaked in obligations, expectations, and responsibilities.
I wonder how different life might look if we didn’t weigh everything we do by what others expect, how we think our actions are perceived, or how much trouble we imagine stepping out of our lane - even for a few moments - will cause.
Perhaps it’s all in my head.
There’s an attraction to choosing the path of least resistance through each day. In the process of doing so you pretty much slam all the sliding doors around you though. Things you might have done. Things you wished you had done.
Anyway.
You find me sitting in Wetherspoons once more this morning - escaping the house for an hour for a coffee and a cooked breakfast. Given I rarely get a chance to either leave the house or interact with anybody during a typical week, these visits have become unexpectedly needed.
After ordering an “English breakfast”, the son of a close friend approached with a plate of food in his hand, and a shy smile. I smiled back, asked him how his new job was going, and tried to avoid embarrassing him too much. It’s interesting to see him “all grown up” - when ever I think of either my own children, or the children of friends, in my head they’re still at junior school.
Right.
Time is marching on. Time to wander down to the street market and have a nose around.