I am blessed to work with some seriously funny people. And one of my favorites is a guy on my team who is a former actor who does accents to crack us up. And when things get tense, as the often do, nothing fails to make me laugh like a good old Hannibal Lecter impression mocking what should be the unmockable.
Today's version of Hannibal still had me laughing five minutes after I left his desk. And then the thought of Hannibal took me completely in a different, twisted way of thinking. Silence of The Lambs is one of my favorite movies of all time, for a host of different reasons. One of the single most disturbing parts of the movies, however, is when Catherine is shown captured and trapped in a well. "She puts the lotion in the basket…" is a pretty terrifying scene. Today, however, it made me consider what would happen if I was stuck in that well. Or stuck anywhere with nothing to do for a long period of time.
I have long thought that the worst places I could "do time" are jail, the military, or a really big hierarchical company. I know to put all three of those in one grouping is ludicrous. No judgment on people that thrive in those last two places. I just know I don't do very well with rules and structure. Too much process and I begin to shrink and wither.
But what would happen if my freedom was taken from me? If I was suddenly held captive in a well, or I was thrown in jail for a month? Or stranded on a desert island?
For the sake of this exercise, I'm going to imagine no harm is coming to me. If I seriously thought I was going to be harmed, I assume I'd probably be spending my time devising ways to protect myself. However, if I were seriously alone for one month, what would I do with myself?
I have been thinking about this all night. If I am realistic, I have a hunch that what would happen is that within a week, I would be sick. My body would shut down, because it is unaccustomed to being at rest. And like it happens on nearly every vacation I take when I try to relax and slow down, I fall apart for the better part of a week.
And when I was whole again, I think I would get to work. I would find a way to occupy my mind so I would not lose it in the solitude. I would find happy, positive thoughts to focus on. And then I would use that quiet, still space to create my next idea.
Free of the constant distraction of technology and bombardment of media and information overload, I would be left alone with my imagination and a clear mind. I haven't had that in I can't remember how long. Perhaps ever. I am fairly certain that as long as I wasn't being harmed, I would find a way to turn whatever crappy situation I was in into something productive. And I'd like to think I would come out of it with my next big thing to focus on and be grateful that I had the clear head to do it.
It's kind of pathetic that I need to fantasize about being trapped in a well or be confined to a jail cell for a month to be able to take time to clear my head enough to think truly creatively. In a perfect world, I could drive across the country or do my own version of "Eat, Pray, Love" to get the same boost of inspiration. As a single mom, that is not in the cards for me, should I chose to go that route, for at least another seven and a half years.
Until then, however, I will keep myself out of prison, and avoid helping creepy dudes move their couches into a van so as to avoid being thrown into a well. I will just have to work really hard at finding time to create pockets of time to think and imagine, and find inspiration wherever it may surface.
And keep on laughing like hell at work.
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