UP

It's so strange that I wrote all about keeping myself from wasting time... And we did just that today: we decided to take Calina to her first movie, "Up", the new Pixar film.

We were a little worried about a few things: 1. that she would be able to get through it without screaming for some reason or another and 2. that it would be too loud and I'd feel guilty having her sit through a whole loud movie. 

Thankfully my fears were completely unfounded (once the loud previews were over, I didn't have any very loud bits to worry about), and she slept in her wrap through the entire thing. 

The movie itself happened to deal with exactly what I was talking about yesterday: life passing us by. 2 idealistic children, Carl and Ellie, make promises to each other to have incredible adventures together by traveling to South America and setting up a life atop a waterfall. Instead, in the first 20 minutes of the film, we see them get married, attempt and fail to have children, grow up, grow older, and eventually Ellie dies, leaving him with unfulfilled promises and a locked-up heart full of regret and ornery stubbornness. "Up" could have been a short film and ended there... There was so much substance and meaning in that first segment that it was a masterpiece on its own. 

However, we get to see Carl as an old man on his own, talking to his empty house as though it were his wife, setting out to bring their dream to fruition: floating his house down to South America, to live atop that waterfall.

Without giving too much of the movie away, I just wanted to talk a little bit about the emotional substance of it... 

• Most of us make promises to ourselves and others about the things that we want to accomplish before our lives are over... a "bucket list" of sorts. The problem is, that life always finds ways to get in the way. Have we failed if we aren't able to follow through? And failed what, or who? 

• Carl felt such regret and guilt that Ellie died before having the experiences she'd always dreamed of, but eventually (posthumously near the end of the movie) she made it clear that she thought that life was a great adventure within itself, and that being with Carl all the way through it was everything she'd hoped for after all. 
  
  Colin seems to be able to live without the adventurous sort of goals at all. He aspires to have a life that feels good from day to day, and knowing that today you helped yourself survive tomorrow, so that you can continue living to enjoy the next day. I, on the other hand, get so wrapped up in what I might miss out on, my focus is always on my next great adventure... Unlike Ellie and Carl, I've had the good fortune of being well-traveled and actually achieving several things I set my heart on. So I'm always thinking, always plotting: What can I plan next? Where can I go? 
  
  Should I worry that I'm missing out on what's in front of me?

• Through all of Ellie's life, though, they tried and tried to fill a jar to save money to take them to Venezuela, and darn it all if life didn't keep blocking their attempts to save: car repairs, hospital bills... But all the while, to the very end, they dreamed of what it might be like. Maybe having dreams and NOT fulfilling them is okay, too. Maybe the act of wanting and aspiring, even when we fail, is good enough.
  
  Just having the jar is good enough.

• And then there is the issue of selflessness... Carl's attempts to hold on to Ellie produce a central conflict in the movie: how do we continue to care for memories and our own goals (and our own pain) while at the same time care for others? Carl learns his lesson quickly that succeeding at his own goals aren't good enough... That the only thing in life that really felt right was sacrificing what he thought he wanted for what he knew was the right thing to do: to put aside his goals and give of himself for the well-being of others. 
  
  This conflict was probably what I could identify with the most... Trying to achieve a balance between self-interest and altruism makes sense, except that helping people a little isn't nearly enough. When living in solitude and wallowing in self-pity (even when is it well-deserved and absolutely justifiable) gives way to a new purpose, a higher purpose, and instead you give love and effort and time, even to those you disdain -- you give up a little of yourself, and find you end up just giving and giving, because, well, that's how it should be. 
  
  Right belief -> right action. Orthopraxy.

I love my life. I really do. It's stressful and sad and full of terrible things... But it's all worthwhile to see and live and love another day.