escape

The first thing Lusine saw at her office desk this morning was the Windows-generated screensaver: a picture of Kefalos islands. The azure blue crystallizes on the shores of the hidden beaches. The water is so clear that you can see the fishes and corals through. She felt alive even just by imagining dipping her toes in the water.

A fly buzzed by her right ear, landing by the framed picture of forest she had on the desk. She used her right palm as the trap to swat the fly. Bam. Blood marks stained her palm. She never killed flies before working here. Just a fly, so what?

A big yawn. She could not make sense of why she is here at the desk, the same question that also kept her awake at night. She went to get a latte at the coffee machine with her dark under-eye circles, as usual. She never drank coffee before working here. Free coffee, why not?

Habits grew before she realized. The thoughts, too. She always judged people who worked in corporate. She is now one of them, an ungrateful prey. Her biggest fear is that she may become someone she is not, but hey, no feelings here. She learned to tuck away her fears. Deep breath, code switch, she unlocked the screen and started typing.

Lusine entered words unconscious to her senses. Keyboard clicking, the autonomous beat, strained her heartbeat. As an autonomous bot with a human screen, she opened the spreadsheets. Work is work, a great way to numb the feelings, and being. She forgot that she trained to listen to her heart and her body for so long. She forgot that there is the ocean, the forest, and there is breathing, living, expansive states of being. Forget about Kefalos islands.

Her presence was marked by the number of spreadsheets she completed. She degraded into the cells. As a child, she kept her hands busy in nature, always building different things. The same old boxes and lines she saw on the screen suffocated her presence, and that deep pain hit her before she realized. The child in me called for attention.

The pain was much more unbearable than the fly buzzing, and she could not kill it within seconds, even though she tried. The pain came in waves, riding with shame and despair, and screaming in sacrifice of love. The human in me called for attention.

Where can I go? The strong urge of escape arrived. She had seen it before, during her parents' catastrophic fights, in her social misfits, and when painful memories rushed through her mind's door without knocking. This time the voice was equally as loud, banging, seeping through those quiet moments.

Her mind went to planning mode, as she spent two years managing trip logistics as an executive assistant to a Unicorn tech CEO. Option 1: Vancouver Island; Option 2: Redwoods forest in California; Option 3: Nunavut. Option 4: Kefalos islands. She let herself enjoy the irrationality prompted by the Windows screensavers, the only random variables in her predictable, controlled routine. Just somewhere, anywhere in nature would be perfect. She signed up for flight alerts for all four options during her unpaid lunch break. She was determined to be led by fate.

The great escape must include the full package of solitude. She knew that the only way to stop the pain is to get out. Get out of here, the unbearable, the messiness. I must clean the dishes before I go. Ugh.

“Lusine, here is a new pile. Thanks!”

She was snapped away from planning her great escape, back to the spreadsheets.

She suddenly hears keyboards clicking — she is not alone in the office. Where are others’ great escapes?

Lusine took a nap right away when she went home from work. It was the best nap she had in years, and one of the few times she had a dream. She saw clear blue oceans sparkling. The ocean was warm. As she dipped her toes in the water, adult-sized salmon came by and kissed her toes, turning them into diamonds. Suddenly, when she looked up, it was her mother walking towards her from the ocean. She was wearing a white silk cape that stayed dry. “I am pregnant,” her mother whispered in her left ear.

The door opened. Her partner Yue just got home from work. “Lusine, where are you? I am so hungry!” His desperate voice cut through the dream, she woke up from the nap, refreshed and confused. Her mother, post menopause, just turned sixty this year. They say that letting go allows new things to birth, and post menopause is when the spirits enter women’s bodies. Enough daydreaming, time to prep for dinner. She felt like having Greek tonight.

The plates were almost wiped clean. The roasted free-range chicken with Ladolemono sauce and roasted greenhouse-farmed broccoli was a success. She imagined the broccoli as the trees, the yellow Ladolemono sauce as the sand, the roasted chicken as herself immersed in the sand. Though estranged by the dream, part of her she still felt grateful that her imaginations had returned, and her creativity could be expressed on the plates.

Lusine gave herself a pat on the shoulders: her culinary learnings from social media in the past year during those unpaid lunch breaks paid off. The Mediterranean flavors set the scene for Kefalos islands. She could already smell the salted oceanic air.

“I felt that the chicken could use a bit more salt.” Yue, sitting across from her on the side of the IKEA dining table in their 400-square-feet studio in Mount Pleasant, blurts out his ratings as he wiped the corners of his mouth with a big burp.

Lusine was a vegetarian before dating Yue, but now conformed to a carnivore’s diet. She felt proud of herself even cooking meat dishes.

It’s been two years since they started dating, the same time she has spent at the soul-sucking job. She met Yue at a time when she was longing for stability. Yue was one of the most disciplined she has ever met. He had a perfect routine and a stable job. They shared an affinity for the woods. In their first two months, they would go to Grouse Mountain together every day and pour their whole hearts out. She will forever treasure those memories climbing the stairs. She even got the job thanks to Yue’s referral. He was the gateway of stability to her, but she was growing out of it slowly.

Lusine started to draw more parallels between work and home. She has felt similar shame-embodied pain in both places, the waves crush her. She is left feeling undervalued, constantly. You do not belong here.

It is time to say it. Lusine brought up the idea of taking a break from the relationship.

“I need to leave this. I need to do it for myself.”

He, who longs for stability, was resistant to the idea of escape or any changes in life.

“Yeah, right, getting away from the problems is always the easiest.” Getting passive aggressive was usually his first reaction.

“I will still pay this month’s rent. I will let the landlord know.” Rent-sharing was the biggest reason propelling them to move in together.

He kept asking more questions. He whined with the why, why, why. She hinted at her great plans of escape, go, go, go.

“Where are you going?”

“Haven't decided yet.”

“In the woods?”

Staring at the pictures from their hiking trip in Whistler, Yue knew the forest is where she usually goes, and also knew that she played wild cards often. He cannot help but worry. He cared deeply for her, but she needed a different kind of care.

“The last thing I want is for you to worry.”

“I will.”

“Please don't.” 

She tried so hard controlling the outcomes, already planning all the steps. She thought her plan was almost perfect, going to take away all the pain and restore the love.

Yue could not stand staring at the pictures of them together. He closed his eyes and tucked his head in between his knees.

Anxiety and silence filled the room.

After a period of only-god-knew-how-long-it-was silence, Yue looked up, as if he was talking to the ceiling: “what if you are still going to feel the same way on your trip, whatever it is that you are leaving from?”

A fly buzzed by his left ear, landing on his right knee. Bam. Yue skillfully killed it with ease. Blood stained his right palm.

He turned and finally looked to Lusine in the eyes: “what if you are simply unable to accept this version of you? Who are you really running away from?”

The phone on the couch lit up, and the flight app sent a low-fare alert for a one-way ticket to Kefalos islands: $222.

Who are you, Lusine? Where are you going?

Lusine gathered her last pay cheque and boarded the plane to Kefalos Islands. It’s been six months since she saw the picture of Kefalos islands, three months since she broke up with Yue, and a month since she quit the job. She booked the ticket out of a complete impulse during a meltdown, and it was certain that the flight alert was a sign from the universe telling her to leave. Two is her favorite number. She always knew she had more than one choice, and she gets to choose the life that she wants and deserves. She knew that money would be tight, but at least she would be free. She had just saved enough for her flight and a month of living expenses.

While she was still in the air, she could see the blue-ness of the ocean – the blue in full saturation with a turquoise undertone. She could not find words to describe the boundless beauty that the screensaver picture could not even capture. She could already taste the salty air in the sky.

As she landed with a full plane of tourists at Kos airport, the escape became reality. A change just as she dreamed of. Γειά σου, a new Lusine!

Lusine got an upper bunk in a hostel near the beach. She spent a month learning Greek, having the best seafood that inspired her flavor palettes. She was living the life of the travel influencers she adored – the life she dreamt of for the past two years. Every day, she went around the island without a plan, full on embracing the daily adventures. By the second week, she already forgot the days of the week, indulging in the full luxury of “living in the moment.” She went on dates with strangers she met at the bar, offered tutoring to kids with rich parents on vacation, and even got herself a spot in the kitchen of her favorite local restaurant Okeanós, so she could learn how the flavors of the ocean danced together. A part of her that she hid for the past two years lit up again: that fearless, creative, and curious her. Every day, she went home happily exhausted. Her old pal Insomnia stopped bothering her. Every night, she slept like a baby.

Dreams started to return in waves. Her grandmother, Dorothy, whom she called Oma, passed away when she was five, walked to her from the ocean, smiling. She chose a spot, and started to build a sand castle on the beach. The castle was full of dishes Lusine loved as a kid: beetroot salad, chicken soup, and pretzels Oma baked… She reached for the dishes with both of her hands, but once touched, they slipped through the fingers. She went to give Oma a big hug. Her presence, too, fell apart. A big wave came to the shore, and washed away the remaining. Suddenly, she was left there alone with a salmon, flopping, struggling to breathe. She picked up the salmon and released it back to the ocean. The salmon kissed her toes with gratitude: “I am going home, follow me.”

The door opened. Her lower bunkmate Marina came back wasted after a wild night. Bam. Marina banged her head on the door. Lusine hugged herself. She felt her own heartbeat. Deep breath, whew, I am not falling apart, yet.

She went to help Marina get to bed. As the oldest in her family, she got accustomed to caring for others: her two younger sisters and her parents’ emotions. Lusine put Marina’s right arm on her left shoulder, and Marina leaned in. The weight became unbearable with heavy breaths of vodka. Lusine walked slowly towards the bed while gently dragging and nagging Marina to take bigger steps. Marina was slightly resistant, nagging Lusine back slightly with the soft arms she could not hold up fully. She blurted some words that she could not understand. Almost there. She turned Marina around to bend over so she could lie down with the face up on the lower bunk without hitting her head again – and that’s when Marina puked on her.

She went to the bathroom to wash her favorite white silk pajama shirt that Oma gifted her, now with seafood vomit. She could not help but burst into tears. Perhaps it was grief for Oma, or for the most freeing version of Lusine she knew, or for the “escape” that would lose its charm if there was some permanence tied to it. She did not know. She did not need to know.

She had been busy with figuring out the basics: where to live, what to eat, while juggling with the new language. It was her first time here in Greece, though she is too familiar with being in a new place. She got too tired of moving around and settling in. Going home was a great escape. She wanted to find belonging. She did the pack: finding a partner and finding a stable job. Perhaps it was the homesickness wrapped with a similar shame as she felt at the job or in the relationship with Yue, no longer despair, yet still drowned in the lack of belonging.

The whole day, Lusine kept thinking about the salmon. That night, she booked her tickets back to Vancouver.

The last night in Kefalos islands, she had a dream where she was in the forest where she grew up in Steward, BC. The same recurring dream that she had when backpacking around the world, before she had jobs that sucked her soul.

Oma held her hand, leading her from the beach to the forest, in a hidden path that only she knew, all the way to an empty small cabin under the canopies of old-growth cedars. The cabin had a firepit outside and a couple rocks around to sit. Oma cooked around that firepit while singing songs to the forest, and Lusine went around picking up leaves and sticks to build her mini-version of the cabin.

Lusine is proud of herself for taking a leap of faith, even by the decision to come home. Oma must be proud, she tells herself. Each time she gets out of the stagnation, even by escape, she feels a sliver of lightness and resiliency. Perhaps this is the best way she heals, so far.

From Vancouver, she drives all the way up north, and gets herself a room in an Inn near Stewart. She did not tell anyone that she was coming, that town that she never wanted to return to in her whole life of thirty-two years. That town that was too small for her ambitions, too boring for her colored soul.

She spent the first five years of her life building castles, stories, and houses there, where her dreams sprouted. Her family moved to Vancouver after Oma passed away. In all the places she’s been to, this is the only place that she felt safe in. She can finally nestle in smallness in the tallness of the trees, again.

She wanders in the forest, finds her way to Dorothy, a path that will always live in her. Dorothy, a grandmother tree, is still standing tall. She hugs her tightly, leaning her cheek against the rough skin of the douglas fir, and nestles in her presence. She hears her own breath moving with Dorothy. In an exhalation, she hears: You belong here.

That night, her mother returns to her dreams again. With the same white silk cape, her mother, now with a gigantic belly, is lying on a bed with hospital white sheets in the cabin. There are a few people standing beside them: her father, a doctor, and a nurse, and a shadow she cannot see clearly. Suddenly, she hears a baby crying.

“It’s a girl!” The doctor announces. She can see the baby clearly with the cord uncut. She is curled up, hugging herself with a gentle smile.

The next morning, Lusine starts building her cabin.