wherever you go, there you are

I had the pleasure of watching Sam Mendes's Revolutionary Road this week (well, maybe I shouldn't characterize it as, "the pleasure," as it was actually quite difficult to watch... but I am an incorrigible Winslet fan, so whenever I get the chance to see her render emotion in the way she does, I seize it). If you haven't seen it, I recommend it. Many things about the movie, about the performances, struck me. This post will address only one.

April and Frank, the young married couple at the center of the movie, are suffering through the mundane realities of 1950's American suburbia; Frank is less-than-thrilled with his 9-to-5 job and daily commute, April is suffocated by her role as wife, mom, and housekeeper. April suggests to Frank that they could essentially fix everything (their boredom, their restlessness, their quiet devastation) if they simply uproot themselves and move to Paris. Money? Oh, well, they've got enough savings to last them 6 months... Job? Oh, well, April suggests that Frank should simply quit his job so he can "find himself" and she, why, she can get a job as a secretary in Paris.

Well, who can blame them for conceiving of and nursing this fantasy? The mundane realities of life strike all of us; the challenge becomes, how do we respond to the mundane aspects of the routine nature of modern life? Do we pine for someplace "better"? Do we convince ourselves that we could make everything better, "if only" we could move to someplace better? Or do we embrace the aspects of routine that can offer us comfort? The truth is, "home" is wherever we happen to be living at the time. As John Lennon once said, "Life is what happens while you're making other plans." And, although I don't know who coined this phrase, it is apropos: "Wherever you go, there you are." You can move to a new place, but you cannot do so without bringing your emotional baggage. Frank realized the folly that was the plan; April did not, and it led to her demise.