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What If All You Want Is to Be Transported to Another World?
How can you live with the weight of the mundane?
You could say I’m going through a mid-life crisis; I’m sure some people might diagnose me that way if they squint at me and just stare for a bit. The advice might be quick and cutting: “Oh, just go out on the town and have a few drinks. What about a pub crawl? That might cheer you up.”
I’ve never been one for the spirits, but I think even a short teleportation of the alcohol-induced persuasion wouldn’t be enough of a “problem-solver” for what I really need.
I think of Narnia — how easy it would be to slip into a wardrobe, maybe even just a flimsy little closet in an apartment somewhere, and then tap along the back wall until my fingertips brush an embossed, tarnished silver knob that hadn’t been there moments before. Then it would be as simple as crawling through until my knees met the wonder of a place that isn’t here.
Then I look at the news, and death looms in so many different forms. There was a mass shooting in that state. A girl was murdered, and her body was found. This war ended, but another one’s begun. Our forests are burning. Even the animals, bright and brilliant in so many various ways, are being torn out of the tapestry of living biology. The world is not what it was…
