Atonement; it's what you do

The movie selection of the evening was Atonement. I have seen it a few times before and every time I am struck by it. I can never pinpoint precisely what is so striking about it. The technical aspects are remarkable yes, but it isn't the technical qualities that pierce through people. They help to effectively accomplish said piercing, but they couldn't accomplish anything if there wasn't such humanity about it; such honesty.

 I suppose it is that quality that most entrances me. It is honest. That we all make choices that can't be undone. Even at 12 before we realize anything we do can matter we do matter. During the film someone commented about how Briony will likely be haunted by the mangled image of these soilders, and I said, "I think she's already haunted, what's a few more ghosts?" It came across as a dark joke, as many of my offhanded confessions do.

I, like Briony, made choices as early as 12 that haunt me. You try to forgive yourself for what a child could have no way of knowing, for a future you could have never predicted, but it doesn't work like that.

I am a woman of many ghosts. Of things I actively decided to do and for so many passive things I let leave. For so many critical words I never had the courage to say.

I know I can spend a lifetime writing them down, perhaps even rewriting them, as Briony did, to provide an ending real life did not. However I think honesty pays a better tribute.

I have knowingly let time, at it's most limited, pass by myself and a terminal loved one.
I'm doing it again now.
I should be with my Grandfather. Or at least write more.
I should have spent as much time as I could have with him
I should have better selected the people I love.
I should have recognized the limits of those I love...
These are a few of my ghosts.

Only a few.

While the movie and book are fictitious there are millions out there like me who are honestly haunted by the choices we made before we realized it mattered. Things we can never get back or give back. We will spend a lifetime trying to forgive ourselves. Atoning for the nature of people.

That's what it all comes back to doesn't it? The best works of art, the most acclaimed movies, the classics in literature. They stand out in their honest reflection of the human condition. In particular the most painful parts of humanity; suffering, intentionality, heartbreak, hope, desperation, and despair. The parts we so often try to ignore and forget in favor of the better aspect; love. Ironically though it is that one feature of humans; to love, that so masterfully connects all the painful parts in a symphony of life. If we faced those difficult truths more often would their be less war, less pain, less sorrow? Would we at least be more compassionate to each other? Would it matter?

It seems poetic, the way it all interweaves, and promising that such works of art exist like this film or Frida Kahlo's paintings. That though astonishingly few people do document the full scale of humanity in all it's splendors and accompanying splinters, some do. Works exist to bare witness to all that it means to be human.

Perhaps one day I'll be one such person...

Taking Risks

This last week I handed in two extremely important documents. First my graduation application and second my application to graduate school at MSUM.

I couldn't help but think back to when I was applying at MSUM for my undergrad. I was so scared. I didn't have great attendance, my grades were alright to down right ugly, and my extracurricular activity stopped somewhere around 8th grade. It was in that time in my life when I was at my all time low. I lived through hell in living through losing Grant and the poorly timed friend drama and bullying.

I saw how he had lived his life. So fully. To me it didn't seem that Grant scared away from too much or let others bother him. He had a short life but one so well lived despite the shortened time. I remember back then, and admittedly sometimes now, how I wondered why it should him who left us. I felt that it should've been me. I didn't have his constant smile or great heart. I was lost in so many ways and life, for assorted reasons, wasn't coming so easily to me. So why would he get sick? He inspired people, brightened their days. I didn't. Typically the opposite.

I will never know why it went the way it did but that I am here and since losing him and dealing with the enormous grief that followed I've learned how to live. I never talked about it, but he was why I applied to college. I didn't want to waste anymore of my time here on earth being afraid. I also wanted to live it a little, okay a lot, for him.

I was scared handing in those two stacks of paperwork, particularly the application. What if I don't get in? What if. what if. what if. I remember holding both stacks of paperwork thinking it'd be easier to not. It's safer to not. Trying to hold onto a moment seemed so tempting, but then I remembered what I'd learned nearly five years ago.

Life is too important to play it safe. So for better or for worse I submitted the applications and while he is always with me, this time it was for me. I'm living my life for me now.

I think that would've made him proud and I hope wherever he is that he knows how much he mattered to my success so far. How much he taught me. How much I love him and how much I miss him. How sorry I am for the things I was too young to know to say. How sorry I am for the choices of a 12 year old me who picked make up and making friend with girls over keeping close with him and that above all how much of an impact his life had.

I believe he does.

I just wanted to document this moment and pay tribute to an incredible person who is so significant in my journey.




Til next time...