Escapism seems the only way to stay sane these days. Along with billions of unwilling and unwitting participants, I presently live in a universe where the leader of ‘the free world’ – whatever that flimsy statement ever meant – openly blames a sovereign nation-state for being invaded by a foreign power. To suggest that the people of Ukraine are in any way culpable for the brutal dictator Vladimir Putin’s decision to invade is so far beyond the realm of possibility that even the fated fantasist and ordained oddball Caligula would have squirmed at the absurdity.
Nonetheless, this reality exists, basking in the notion of “alternative facts”. An invented mantra that, under the cover of some kind of pseudo-science, proclaims that lies are the truth and vice versa. The discussion of how we got to this juncture in human evolution is for another occasion. For the time being I’d like to examine a potential short-term diversion; how escapism can help us all stay sane in the times of Trumpism.
Escapism isn’t always possible: the ubiquity of injustice
No matter how societies across the globe are governed, be it dictatorship or democracy, they nevertheless share one common pinch point. The masses answer to a minority. This is the Achilles heel of societal structure since a ‘wrong un’ can often enter the fragile structures that bind us together and wreak havoc. Psychopaths, sycophants, and all stations in between are better positioned to pursue these opportunities since empathy is so emotionally draining that the good among us generally don’t have the staying power.
I sometimes envy those who have no political dial. They generally remain unmoved, more interested in the orbit of their everyday lives. The mendacious melodies of the contemporary political landscape both here and abroad can be at best confusing and at worst terrifying. Burying one’s head has its attractions. I cannot, although I confess that I do not have the appetite nor inclination to devote my entire life to the relentless yet honourable cause of exposing the serial shysters. I bow meekly in the immense shadows of Greta Thunberg, Malala Yousafzai, et al.
I left political life as a direct result of my revulsion of Boris Johnson and the epic self-harm of Brexit. Afterwards, could I simply switch off from political discourse? Not a chance! Especially now, when the world is being shaped by a bunch of human beings who seem more akin to a criminal cartel than servants of the people. Writing certainly helps me make sense of my emotional disquiet. If I can encourage at least one other person to adopt a more enquiring mind, then my contribution has been worthwhile.
The self-caring art of escapism
During this personal journey, I have discovered that escapism has become a vital ingredient for my own mental wellbeing. But, like every remedy, moderation is key. Too much and avoidance can become the predominant mindset. Nonetheless, it can provide a temporary respite from stress and anxiety, allowing individuals to recharge and gain perspective.
Of the many academic sorties into this field of human behaviour I found that the most fascinating was Rosie Morrow’s research, ‘A Study to Explore the Lived Experience of Camping and Associated Effects of Escapism: A Green Exercise Approach’, concluding that camping provides significant mental health benefits.
Morrow’s study found that camping can offer feelings of escapism, improve relationships, provide a respite, boost self-esteem and offer an overall positive impact on mental health and wellbeing. I detest camping. Why suffer the adverse elements of the UK weather when there is a perfectly cosy Premier Inn nearby? Yet camping wasn’t the point of the enquiry, rather the importance of escapism itself. My route of escape is following the oldest professional football club in the World from Carlisle to Gillingham via Grimsby and points in between. Being a Notts County fan is more than just the game. It is my insurance policy against going totally doolally.
Where will your escapism take you?
Escapism doesn’t necessarily mean an expensive holiday (albeit if you have the means, why not?) but without a time-out the brutality of life can be all consuming. I urge you to find and fall in love with escapism as it is perhaps the one true antidote to all this present-day unrest and division. Your escapism doesn’t necessarily need to replicate the utterly brilliant film, Planes, Trains and Automobiles that my chosen diversion often embraces. Nor does it need to be a rain-filled camping holiday as Morrow suggests. It could be as simple as the embrace of another, a good book, or indulging in a warm bath with a glass of wine.
My favourite observation on the importance of escapism is attributable to comedian Anthony Jeselnik:
The world is full of horrible things that will eventually get you and everything you care about. Laughter is a universal way to lift your head up and say: ‘Not today, you bastards.’
