I have been ruminating on something for the past few weeks. Most people who know me even on a casual level know that this pensive act is not new for me. Often an idea or a concept will burrow its way into my psyche where it can remain for days, weeks or even months. I wrestle with it, I ignore it; I sleep on it.
So here I am again. Only I’m a bit more lost than usual. You see for all my analytical training, I have failed so far in my attempts to neatly package my analysis on the subject of my rumination. My produced thoughts are merely pieces of a splintered whole lacking continuity. So instead of sharing these fragments with you, I will simply share the subject instead.
According to popular media, 2012 was a phenomenal year for the film industry. I’m not sure about that, but what I am sure of is that one of the best films I have seen in several years was released in 2012: The Perks of Being a Wallflower.
If you haven’t seen it, do. I realize that due to the nature of my profession films like these tend to have a larger impact on me that they might otherwise have on the general population, but I feel that if one looks close enough the phenomenally beautifully core of this story can reach out into the souls of us all.
The final scene brought me to tears, and it is this story in its entirety but this scene in particular that has taken up residence in my mind as of late. The text below is the final communication from the primary character near the end of the story. You can also view the scene here.
I don’t know if I will have the time to write any more letters because I might be too busy trying to participate. So if this does end up being the last letter, I just want you to know that I was in a bad place before I started high school and you helped me.
Even if you didn’t know what I was talking about, or know someone who’s been through it, you made me not feel alone.
Cause I know there are people who say all these things don’t happen. And there are people who forget what it’s like to be 16 when they turn 17. I know these will all be stories someday and our pictures will become old photographs and we’ll all become somebody’s mom or dad, but right now these moments are not stories… this is happening, I am here, and I am looking at her and she is so beautiful.
I can see it, this one moment when you know you’re not a sad story; you are alive and you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder and you’re listening to that song on that drive with the people you love most in this world and in this moment, I swear, we are infinite.
When I read these words, I think of the kids I work with. I think of myself. I think of the child who wrote with chalk on the sidewalk the words displayed in the photo above “Be tough yet gentle, humble yet bold and swayed always by beauty and truth.”
Something more profound may yet come to me, but for now, I’m just going to continue to allow myself to be impacted even though I don’t yet have a solid response.