Up, up and away: As easy as it sounds?

Today I'm going to watch Up. Up is a Disney cartoon about a grumpy old man who is frustrated with life, so he ties half a trillion helium balloons to his house so that he can finally just leave.

This post will be divided into two parts: my thoughts before and my thoughts after the movie.

So a lot of you still laugh when I say things like 'when I used to be immature' and granted, I deserve that, because, well..I am not exactly the epitome of maturity. Of course my love for cartoons, Disneyland, and Buzz Lightyear has always been a fun topic of discussion. But, the real reason a kindergartner and I can genuinely enjoy a cartoon together has never really been put out there.

And so I throw this thought out at you: I love cartoons because the worst that can ever happen can always be resolved by the likes of Buzz Lightyear - which really doesnt say much about the storyline, of course. But that's the whole point, isn't it? Becoming part of a world with absolutely no limit for success, happiness and all those rainbows and butterflies, but at the same time a world with a clear and always manageable definition of sadness and failure.

But then, what happens when you watch a cartoon, the root of which is essentially escapism? Here I am, ready to head to this movie in 2 hours time so that I can spend 2 hours washing away the stress of the week. There is nothing more ironic than escaping by watching a cartoon about a man escaping.

So this led me to thinking about something else entirely. Is the answer really as simple as tying balloons to your house? Does it all really come down to physically leaving a place? I've lost count of the number of times I've tied balloons to my house, willingly or unwillingly. Generally I find that even though I've left a place, I don't necessarily completely detach myself and not straight away. What I have found to be very effective, however, is time.

Time makes me forget everything.

I am going to my movie. I will report back on Disney's conclusion.

So I just got in.

My perception of Up is apparently upside down (pun completely intended. ha.). Up isn't about a man trying to escape, it's about a man fighting for his life. Mr. Fredrickson built a house with his wife and promised her one day he would take it to Paradise Falls (a land never before explored by men). Time and life flew by and she eventually died so Mr. Fredickson became the grumpiest little old man known to humanity.

Disney and I agree: Time changes everything.

You see the house that Mr. Fredrickson and his wife built together slowly becoming sandwiched by skyscrapers. You see a man so deeply entrenched in routine, so desperately trying to hold on to his wife despite her death. Then you see a man who realized the only way he could hold on to any sense of familiarity, stability, to his wife's memory, is by embarking on an adventure. He tied balloons to the house and flew the damn thing to Paradise Falls, because he'd be damned if he couldn't take her there.

I haven't quite pinned an ending to my adventure yet. But my question to you is, have you found an adventure worth embarking upon? Is your adventure disguised as everyday life? Or is it a little bit more? Or is it something you didn't see coming? Are you afraid of time? Of becoming so consumed by one adventure, that you miss out on one that could have been IT?

I'd like an adventure in the form of a house without balloons. But I had to spend my life continent-hopping to realize it.

Disney and I also agree here:
Mr. Fredrickson found a scrap book that his wife had put together called 'My Adventures'. Pictures of their marriage and life together filled the book.

So sometimes tying balloons to your house is an adventure. Sometimes going to a land unexplored by mankind is also an adventure. But sometimes, your adventure is not a race around the world, but a race against time.

Start running.

B