Revolutionary Road

Saturday night we went to see the movie, Revolutionary Road.  I didn't expect it to be what it was.  I am not sure what my expectations were, exactly, but not that.  It was so ... sad.

The two main characters are played by Kate Winslet and Leonardo DeCaprio. Frank and April Wheeler fall in love and end up in suburbia.  But her dreams run deeper than that, and she believes that so do his. And he's not happy in his job, commuting on the train to NYC and sitting at a desk and not really doing anything of any importance ... and the general apathy of the entire workforce is felt as a sea of hat-topped men flood through Grand Central Station on their way to and from work. (It takes place I would guess in the 60's.)

They are both deeply unhappy and he has an affair and she realizes that something needs to be done.  So she does something, which I won't say because I don't want to give away the movie on the off-chance you want to go see it and be depressed!

But it made me think ... I feel the same way the woman did, now, and my life is a cazamillionbajillion times better than hers was.  How did so many women survive that time period intact?  Or did they!????

The way she felt is that there had to be more.  More than keeping a house clean, shopping, cooking and all the mundane chores that made up her daily life.  Her children were older and she wanted more.  She wanted the same hope for the future she had felt when she was younger, and she believed that it could be obtained as long as they didn't fall for the "American Dream," which was really no more, no less than a total nightmare.

And Frank discovered that the life he had was what he wanted all along. Which of course is a huge betrayal to April, because the one thing that had returned them to their original closeness was their mutual discontent.

There are all types of people in the world, but I identified with this character very deeply, because I wouldn't have been able to live that life either.  I am not saying that there weren't women during that time period (and today) who were perfectly happy keeping a house clean and meeting her man at the door with a fresh martini and making sure his dinner is served promptly.  And I'm not saying that you can't find deeply fulfilling work and spend each day in total bliss anywhere, including suburbia.

What am I saying?

There are plenty of people in the world who don't live a "typical" and accepted lifestyle, and yet, we perceive them as somehow being a little off.  Unless you have a job and a house and a few cars and other material possessions to prove your success, then it is just naturally assumed that you're not smart or successful.  But which is it?  

April and Frank were going to "have it all" in the eyes of the world.  But she felt as though she didn't have anything.  At. All.  She felt empty, devoid of hope, all she could see in the future was more of the same.  More of the same she couldn't stand.  I don't feel like that, but I do feel trapped within the constraints of stuff.  I do feel as though I am surrounded by so many things I thought were necessary for a happy and fruitful life -- but really all they do is suffocate me!

And just the same way this stuff accumulates and doesn't have a place, it affects you, in your life, and makes you feel jumbled and out of place.

For example, my office is a mess.  It is a very small room and yet every nook, cranny and corner has something in it.  To the left of my desk is a fan.  It is there because in August it was a hundred degrees in my office, and I needed it.  It is covered in dust and could easily be moved back to the basement where I found it.  But there it stays.  On my actual desk are piles of things that are very "important."  Things I need to address sooner rather than later and stuff that has absolutely no business at all being there, like the pictures Maddie printed out to show me, but did not return to her room.

On the other side of my desk are two low tables that have everything imaginable stacked on them.  Books, magazines, cameras, pocketbooks, knapsacks, oh look, there's an umbrella, paints, canvases, assorted cords to computers and other gadgets, a tin box I have no idea where it came from, but there it is perched on the top of the highest pile, and on the floor surrounding the table is more junk.  

Some of the books I have already read, some I have not.  There are quite a few raw food books, but not in any particular order, so when I am looking for one, I have to move stacks to see what is behind them.  Then there is a chair, which is normally open for sitting.  But now it has the manuscript I am working on piled on it, as well as several photo albums someone was looking at recently.  To the left of the chair is the ottoman, or I think it is an ottoman, but it is completely covered, with a laptop, mail, more magazines, a hat, more pocketbooks, and then on the floor next to that is a backpack, another bag I use, and a bag of recyclable shopping bags.

This is a nightmare.  And when I look at it, I have no idea where to put it all.  I have no bookshelves that have even an inch of space on them, and yet I have loads of homeless books.  So what do I want to do?  Run away!  The clutter of it all is stifling.

I don't know what a messy office has to do with anything.  I guess it's because even if I do clean it, somehow it will return to this state.  Just like the kitchen, which no matter what I do accumulates crap.  And the pantry.  Clean it out, and sure enough, the next thing you know every surface is covered with something.

I HATE IT!  It makes me absolutely bonkers, and I dream about a cabin in the woods (secluded and yet completely wired for internet!) with clean curtains blowing in the breeze and a few sticks of crazy comfortable furniture and no clutter.  NO CLUTTER.  Perhaps a bowl of fresh, colorful fruit on the stark table, but nothing else.  NOTHING ELSE!

I must be free of the constraints of crap.  I must!

But I think it is human nature, because I am sure in my little cabin I would be sure to realize that I NEEEEEED something.  A throw rug on the floor.  A pillow for the couch.  And so it would begin again.  

::::::::::::sigh::::::::::::::::::::

I guess I should clean the office, huh?