Hey guys. Sup, Tony.
Read any good books lately? Or maybe even a good movie?
Cool, cool. Any thoughts on why it was good?
What’s that, Jefferson? The CGI was amazing, especially on that hot alien infiltrating human society with its seductive and wily ways? Right. Alien boobs, huh?... Yeah, not really what I was meaning, but you do you mate. I also have questions about how aliens know enough about humans to figure how to be hot and seductive to our eyes and ears, but that’s not the point today is it…
I think we we’re ALL hoping for something more along the lines of “It really spoke to me on a level I’m not sure I fully understand yet. That character (insert generic name from an emotionally charged movie designed to make them more relatable) and their story really struck a chord”. But that’s on me, kind of set us up by asking JEFFERSON of all people. You’ve met the guy, no real surprise there…
Anyway…
I wrote a post a long time ago about how the nature of the stories and movies and characters and gods and superheros and all that jazz gave us hints and clues as to who we are and how deeply that runs. Well, at least who we THINK we are anyway. But we won’t go down that particular rabbit hole today.
Something within us is drawn to those things. And it may take time to realise what that is, to learn the lessons it has to teach us, to understand ourselves better through the scope of characters and events outside of us. Maybe we don’t do that consciously, but some part of us does. And asks the question “What would I do in that situation? How would I feel? What would I think? How would I react?” And you learn something about yourself, about your feelings and ethics and standards when it comes to this or that. How you feel about alien boobs, for example…
“Great. Thanks for pointing this out. You said you’ve talked about this before. Why bore us with this again, unless it’s to shame Jefferson about his thing about alien boobs that one time?” you may well ask. Well, firstly, it wasn’t just this one time. Jefferson does it ALL the time…
Secondly, I wanted to ask… Why do we revisit those things I mentioned? Sure, sometimes they just make us feel good. Bit of whimsy, bit of childhood wonder maybe, bit or nostalgia. But is that all? Just a momentary burst of feel good… stuff? I mean, that might be truer of movies than books, because there’s much less commitment involved in a movie compared to a book. So, where’s the value?
What’s the difference between something we experience once and leave, and something we choose to experience multiple times? If we can put a finger on why something spoke to us, in an affirmational or aspirational way, why do we re-watch or re-read things? Surely the lesson has been learned? Maybe, maybe not. I’d argue that experiencing something once and not coming back means that you found no value in it. No lessons found, learned, and valued. Or maybe it was just bad. Again, no value.
But if you do find personal value in the experience? Well, that says something. What, exactly, is entirely up to you. But again, why re-experience it?
Well, what if I said, providing you have learned the lesson the experience had to teach you, revisiting it can deepen the lesson or bring new insight into the how’s and whys of you and your life.
What if, each time you watch or read it, you learned more about you? Gain a clearer idea of who you are and what that means?
What if that’s part of the meaning of life? And those movies and books and stories and events and family and friends are ALL vehicles and frames of reference used in modern day to aid in that pursuit?
What if I said that memory does the same thing for us too? That the things we remember and re-experience through memory, are our inbuilt way to learn deeper lessons based on the experience we had back then? Why else would things we’d forgotten or put out of mind come back to us?
Maybe a part of us knows that we still haven’t got the full meaning out of that time, when we were 7, our neighbour Becca told us we looked dumb in our new shoes that we got for our birthday and that pink taffeta bows are tacky and make our legs look gross and pale by comparison. Like old ham.
When it initially happened, the lesson was: Becca sucks.
Years later, the lesson was: maybe your skin tone doesn’t suit taffeta after all.
Years later again, the lesson was: that sometimes people project their own pain on to you so they can at least feel better about that.
And years later again, the lesson is: that you don’t need to take things personally and react to them if that’s just not how you want to live your life.
Who knows what else is to come? Maybe you meet Becca years later, and despite being removed from her for some time and growing and learning, the lesson is still… Becca sucks.
Maybe those things keep coming back up because you didn’t learn the first lesson. Maybe they keep coming back because you have something new to learn with new context and value for who you are now, and who you are becoming. Maybe a that’s why you keep wanting to experience the same things over again, further opportunity to add value to a lesson you already found value in.
I know I do this. Reading a book as a teenager, I remember distinctly think “Why are they picking of the main character? They’re supposed to be his friends?... If I was him I’d tell them all to fuck off and leave. They can save the world themselves. Jerks…” Years later, remembering that sentiment, I re-read those books. I finished them and thought to myself “What kind of person was I back then that a bit of ribbing from my mates would have caused me to react like that?”
Maybe I needed to tell my mates to fuck off because they were being dicks.
Maybe I need to learn that developing a level of resilience was necessary, and that the story and my mates helped me do that.
Maybe I read too much into stuff.
I took the second one as the more valuable meaning.
A recent re-read had me considering the nature of Troll (no, not internet trolls…) justice when applied to human morality and the dependence of diplomacy in such circumstances heavily relying on empathy and the attempt at mutual understanding.
Huh. Maybe I do read too much into stuff?...
Anyway.
The short version is: PAY ATTENTION!!!
No, not to alien boobs. Jeez…
I mean, do what you like. But pay attention to WHY you focus on alien boobs, Jefferson. It might just tell you something about you. Maybe. Hopefully.
Pay attention to why we go back to certain things.
Why certain memories come back up for us?
What we are trying to show ourselves?
Be kind, be smart, be your best you. No bar fights.
“These fragments I have shored against my ruins” T.S. Eliot
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