NaBloPoMo 2017: Field Notes from a Life in Medicine
The weekend has gone by too fast, and I have done none of the tasks on The List. Oh well, it’s all good. I got up this morning and made the green onion pancakes that my daughter loves so much. We had a very successful shopping binge at Trader Joe’s and Target, woo hooooo! And in between, we had something of a Christmas movie marathon:
“Love, Actually” (2003)
“The Holiday” (2006)
“While You Were Sleeping” (1995)
I’ve seen each of these movies so many times that I anticipate my favorite lines with giddiness and delight. But they often end up serving as background on theTV as I accomplish other things. Today, though, I was able to relax, sit, and watch. It was touching and emotional, something of a re-centering.
What I love about each movie is how human all the characters are—there is something to relate to for every aspect of humanity in these films. No one is perfect but all are lovable, all are flawed. The relationships between characters—siblings, spouses, neighbors, friends, coworkers, parents, children, boy/girlfriends, and ex-es—are all interconnected, interdependent. Somehow, watching these three movies in a row today, I’m struck by the portrayals of vulnerability, honesty, humility, judgment, love, and commitment, as well as lapses thereof. It’s all so real, so human.
The hero’s journey is real. We are all called to our own adventure, inevitably facing challenges and conflicts against our will. We search for the easy ways out, alternative paths around our problems. We avoid the hard feelings, the discomfort, the morass. And then, somehow, we find a way—we meet someone who can help, we marshal our resources, we find the inner strength to do what’s needed, to carry on. It’s messy and awkward, meandering and stumbling, often also hilarious and worthy of eye rolls and head shakes. Looking back we find ourselves thinking, “Well why didn’t I just do that in the first place?” And we can also appreciate the inevitable, valuable learning from the missteps and wrong turns.
Movies are movies, of course, not real life. They are an escape. They are also a mirror, as most art is. They tell our shared stories, remind us of our relationships and connections through time, across nations, between genders and generations. They’re called “movies” because they are still pictures shown in series to give the illusion of movement. But perhaps we can think of them as moving us at our core, drawing us nearer to one another through shared experience and imagination. The best movie experiences leave us a little cracked, a little exposed, a little sensitive—or a lot. They remind us of our core humanity, inviting us to bring it forth and live it in authenticity.
Many thanks to all those who create and contribute to this art form. You make us better.