“But still bless me anyway. I want more life.” - Angels in America
***
My little sister is 15 years younger than me. I look at her with awe and worry; she looks to me like the most successful example of a teenager. She’s lovely, smart, healthy, athletic. But she’s fifteen, so, naturally, I have a blanket concern for her entire existence.
But not even my somewhat maternal worry, or being able to remember the day she was born, make our generational divide as obvious as a quick look at through our phones.
I’m a millennial, so I’m forever guided by my Pavlovian response to external validation and the need to please people. I’m haunted by leaving people on read. K is a gen Z representative and it shows. She has 105 unopened snapchats.
“How do you look people in the eye at school, when they know you just never open their messages?” I asked. She shrugged: “I just can’t be bothered.”
What an absolute icon.
***
Mila learnt how to say “outside” the other day. Believe me when I tell you, that’s some precious shit right there. She pointed at the window at the doctor’s office, and said: “Ahsaa!” I know you’re about to say oh, that could mean anything. And let me counter that tidbit of common sense with: listen here you punk, it’s close enough.
I’ve been feeling very stuck inside lately. The weather has been terrible and Zoe refuses to accept jackets as a general concept. So we stay inside. My two demon children strategically tag team night-time wake ups to leave me as weakened as possible in the mornings. At this current stage of overall tiredness I’m unable to defeat a three year old in hand to hand combat, so I can’t even wrestle her into a jacket any more.
I ask myself: “Here in central London, how different really is the outside from the inside besides being about 10 degrees colder? It’s all concrete and glass anyway. And mice, and we have one of those living on our balcony now, so… the local fauna is covered.” This makes me feel better. Not “just got a healthy dose of vitamin D” better, but better.
***
It’s kind of annoying how smug “city people” are about not being “outdoorsy”. I guess it makes sense though, since technology and general societal development are stubbornly leading us deeper and deeper indoors. You might not like it, but feeling disgruntlement at the fact that your HomePod doesn’t control the brightness of the sun is the peak of evolution.
I don’t think I’ve ever been particularly *good* at the whole nature thing. Time and time again my childhood friend laughs about that time I woke up in our tent in the middle of the night during one of the hikes, crying, saying there are bugs all over me. I woke up the three other people who were in the tent with me, and made them all switch sleeping directions.
However old you think I’d have to be for that to fly, I was older than that.
But I still love being outdoors. I’m just evolved enough to draw a line at thousands of bugs crawling all over me while I sleep, but the rest is just fine with me. I’ll squat in the mud by the creek and cup the water with my hands. Actually, maybe not that, either.
We were on a camping holiday in Lithuania when I was about 12. My sister and I were helping wash the dishes in the creek. When we got out of the water, we looked down at my legs and I was in utter shock to see hundreds of leeches all over my ankles. Very very little baby ones and a few really juicy adult ones. All I remember is standing by that creek, sobbing, as my sister took them all off one by one.
So, I’m too evolved for bugs, and for excessive amounts of leeches. Bugs and leeches, then.
I’ll run through a field of wild flowers, though. I love the outdoors. Nature child, me. I’ll frolic. Though, maybe not if the grass is really tall. Really tall grass is a no.
I remember going gliding (again, this was in Lithuania). Those of you that have been gliding might know that the launch point is often far from the amenities, depending on the club and how the winds are that day. So I took my business to the edge of the field where the woods were starting, and the grass was tall. I walked and walked deep into the grass.
I was starting my way back when I saw a small spiderweb in front of my face, with a couple of spiders on it. I cringed away from it, and immediately saw another one. And another one.
And another one.
My sister loves telling the story of how she heard my terrified shriek from inside the grass. I remember running out of the grass, screaming, and seeing my sister running towards me to see if I was okay.
“SPIDEEEEEEERS!!!” I screamed, tears in my eyes. Fucking spiders, they were everywhere, everywhere. I still shiver thinking about it.
So, fine. Too evolved for leeches, spiders, and excessive numbers of bugs. But you know, I love the outdoors. I do love… the outdoors…
Maybe city people have a point.
***
People often draw parallels between your home and the inside of your head. My grandma always said: tidy room, tidy mind. Sure, she just wanted us to tidy, but she had a point.
(She did also say we’d be skinny if we picked up after ourselves and I’m now picking up after four people and still waiting. I guess not everything of age is wisdom, some of it is just the recycling of fucked up Eastern European body standards.)
I guess inside is more comfortable. Outside is unknowable and scary. Outside has leeches. Outside sends incessant snapchats and then expects you to open them. But for someone like me there’s really nothing, all jokes aside, there’s nothing that compares to a walk in the woods. And, if it can’t clear your mind, then maybe it will at least remind you how wonderful and comfortable your inside is.
I was trying so hard not LOL when reading this. At work. The spiders thing reminded me of that scene from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, where they were in that secret cave they found in her room and his ladylove was screaming her head off because all those things were crawling all over her. I would have done the same thing, honestly. Tall grass would be a red flag for me, too, just for the simple fact that in every movie I've seen, NOTHING good happens in tall grass. And, y'know, ticks. LOL
Funny and wise. Leeches are definitely not good.