Flight from the insular

Which is not to hark back to "each man is an island;" though perhaps it does, indirectly. I literally grew up on an island, and do not refer to this word in a literal sense, either.
The insular can be found everywhere.
There is much advice to the tune of "do not pay heed to the lesser." The only image I can conjure to mind in the ugly face of the insular is an illustration of the Little Prince, to the caption: "In order to make his escape, I believe he took advantage of the migration of wild birds."
One cannot maintain a life of flying, but it does make sense to take advantage of the more auspicious situation that one can count on finding in the face of adversity. Entire journeys transpire as one looks to escape the restricted. The restricted has an intense need to shrink everything to its dimension.How uncomfortable and reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland.
Some of the people where I live have this terribly annoying habit of asking a thousand questions. They are very adept at bringing the conversation back to these questions despite one's Houdini-esque attempts to make it otherwise. They look to net in information to use against their interlocutor (at a later time).
But the bigger picture shows their efforts in vain. No life is contained in "information," which incidentally seems to have been first used (in the 14th century) to mean incrimination; indeed, I wonder if the sense is that different today. Doesn't the connotation of information imply a lack of context? How insular!
But ultimately, the island is in the ocean, which connects all continents.
It has been said that one's enemies are one's gruff friends; would there be flight without this toil, this face-off with adversity? The spiritually impoverished looks to take a jab or return the blow, depending on the situation; the other rises above it, and low and behold, one is airborne, like in this song (albeit towards the end). Which reminds me of a person I met this past week. A Korean born and raised in Russia. When she asked where I was from, there was no pressure. I joked about being an egg; she said: "People ask me where I am from and when I say Russia, they don't listen. What do I know about Korea? I did not grow up there; we ate borscht at home."
She then gave me the recipe for borscht.
So, it just goes to show that if one is a banana or an egg, one must be good at flying.

No comments:

Post a Comment