Saturday, March 24, 2012

Post-movie Let Down

I enjoyed my alone time watching the IMAX Hunger Games movie here in Columbia, MD. It was a good movie. Of course, I wanted to see so much more than made it into the finished film. I left feeling old, fat, and out-of-shape. I can, and really do need to do something about that. Then I went to Starbucks and had a chai and a piece of pumpkin bread, which seemed like extreme indulgence after life in District 12 or trying to stay alive while being hunted in the woods.

I did some people-watching, with the old fashioned school fire alarm bell and organ music of the mall carousel leaking in through the open entrance of the store. Everyone seems to be so beautiful in their own way. It's weird. They all seem precious somehow,
and yet, like there are just way too many of us well-fed, entitled-feeling, naive, disconnected from our environment, soft, spoiled, and yet innocent Americans min one place. It seems...indecent somehow and yet I feel protective of each person I see here. We, the Starbucks customers, who have likely never known real physical hardship or hunger, we who are able to consider our psychological needs because we are so beyond survival. I know we earn our keep in our own way, but I feel like a Capitol citizen: silly, vulgar in my wealth, unaware of the real suffering in the world, waiting to be entertained.

My pumpkin bread was exquisite. I ate it in quarters and savored each one like it was a rare delicacy. I don't want to fall asleep again and take everything for granted. I don't want to wear the pink wig, butterfly eyelashes, and ridiculous fashions of the Capitol. I wonder how long until I am again so wrapped up in myself that I ignore the real luxury of my existence here.

 Everyone here is Someone to somebody, but it also seems like, in such an ocean of individuals, how can one really expect to be any more significant, special, or successful than another in the context of so many people? We Americans strive to matter, to make a difference, and maybe we can in our own little rings of contacts. Most won't though. Most of us will live and die and in 2 generations have our entire story lost, like all the generations of individual dinosaurs that didn't wind up as fossils. What can I do to be a fossil? And why do I care? Why does this feel like a need to me? What foolish pride, to think any of us could be remembered. But some are. A very select few. I guess I want to be "select.". Don't we all? Don't we all imagine ourselves as Katniss and not the dead tributes, the people in the Capitol, the avoxes, dead miners, or the rest of the unknowns?  Fools.  Me too.


  1. I cannot control my story. I am not wise enough, clever enough, or well spoken enough to make a lasting difference. I cannot make others care enough to remember me tomorrow.
    What I can do is savor every moment of life like you savored your pumpkin bread. I have the joy of a spouse and two children to whom I am the whole world. I cannot control if they will love me tomorrow, but now, in this moment, I can love them for all I'm worth. If tomorrow the love of my life decides he no longer loves me...I will know that I gave him my best today. If tomorrow tragedy strikes and my babies are returned to the dust, I will know I loved them as much as I possibly could every moment of their lives. And if tomorrow I am gone, I know that my sweet ones will remember to the very marrow of their bones my love for them. Fame and fortune and clean laundry are fleeting.
    I only have this moment, and really, it's all I need.

    1. This is so very what I need to embrace. Problem is, in this moment I am feeling despair for no reason. I know, don't believe everything you feel.... The trick for me I think is to find a way to stop questioning whether whatever is "my best" at a given time is good enough. It seems it is never as good as I want it to be or as I could do at some other time or that someone else could do (I'm overly competitive). I need to kick the "should" habit, but then I wonder at what point do I need to stop telling myself whatever my best is right now is enough and crack the whip because in actuality I am slacking?