Hello anyone who’s reading this. I’m back for another update. Had a lot to think about the last couple weeks, and most of this blog update comes to you from 39,000 ft in the air while I was on a plane on its way to Ft. Wayne, IN Friday, February 10th. Be thankful that I’m typing this up and you aren’t reading from my notebook. It was a bit bumpy and my handwriting reached such an unreadable state that it may as well have been a doctor’s!
Sitting on the plane I was contemplating the strange sort of irony my week had presented to me. I don’t even know if irony is the best way to describe it, but what was interesting was that on Sunday, February 5th the week began with a baby dedication at church and sitting on the plane on Friday the 10th I was finding myself headed out of town for a family funeral, one life beginning, another ending. (Sing it with me fellow Disney Freaks, “It’s the circle of life!”)
The baby dedication was joyous and celebratory and full of happy tears. A part of a story was read and blessings were placed upon the baby as he began his own story. The funeral was sad of course, as they are, and full of tears, but also had its celebratory moments. The program was headed with the phrase, “Every Life Has a Story”, and stories there were. We all told stories of a life remembered. It was what helped us all work past the tears.
The same Sunday as the baby dedication I took myself to the movies to see the Martin Scorsese film Hugo. I absolutely adored it. Let me try to summarize. Hugo, a young boy living in France with his father, who is a clock maker, ends up becoming an orphan and living in a train station tending to the clocks after he loses his father in a fire. Before he died, Hugo’s father found a clockwork automaton figure, and he and Hugo were working together to fix it. Of course now that his father is gone, Hugo carries on the project by himself and through many adventures and trials he uncovers the mystery of the automaton and the story behind it.
The movie talks about things, people, that are broken and what it takes to fix them. Hugo tells a friend of his that the reason he likes machines is that they are made to do something and know exactly what it is. He stands at the top of the train station, behind the clock, and tells his friend that after his father died he would go up in there to look out at the city. He said he saw the city as one big machine, full of moving parts. He says that machines come with all the parts they need to do what they were meant to, with no extra parts, and each of the parts has a specific purpose to fulfill within the machine itself. He says that it gave him comfort to think of the whole world as one big machine, because that meant he was a part of it and here for a reason, he just had to figure out what it was. Of course by the end of the movie Hugo has found his place, and ends up where he belongs, a perfect happy ending. Isn’t that what all of us are after, a place in this world?
Another part of the movie was the role and importance of storytelling, namely through the medium of movies (it is a Scorsese film after all). It showed how stories inspire us, entertain us, and touch our hearts. The movie ends with Hugo’s friend sitting down with a notebook to write down an account of his story. For me this reinforced my belief in my gift of writing. All stories, even and perhaps most especially fantastical ones like the movie Hugo, are important. How horrible this life would be if we had no fantasy, no other worlds to escape to! I am in love with the idea of being someone who can create that for people and I desperately hope one day I am.
After the week I had had, I realized the importance of real life stories as well. Thinking of the baby dedication I thought of all the stories he would be told. Stories to put him to sleep, stories of how he was born, stories of his family and their history that will all help to make him the person he will become. He will carry on those stories eventually to his children and so on and so forth so that the legacy of his family will be carried on, connecting the generations through time. Then, reflecting on the funeral, there were high emotions at first, great sorrow and sadness. However, once we had a chance to cry our tears and sit for a few minutes, all we were left with were stories, stories that made us smile and even laugh.
Storytelling is one of the oldest traditions in the world. More than any possessions or pictures, what lasts are the stories in one’s life. They bring some joy to sad occasions; pass on history to future generations. Stories touch people, inspire, provide escape and I love that. I want to be a part of it and when my life ends I want there to be an abundance of stories. The past couple weeks were full of ups and downs, happiness and sadness, but somehow, like a big machine, it all seems to fit together like clockwork.
In Memory of Helen Clark
Sitting on the plane I was contemplating the strange sort of irony my week had presented to me. I don’t even know if irony is the best way to describe it, but what was interesting was that on Sunday, February 5th the week began with a baby dedication at church and sitting on the plane on Friday the 10th I was finding myself headed out of town for a family funeral, one life beginning, another ending. (Sing it with me fellow Disney Freaks, “It’s the circle of life!”)
The baby dedication was joyous and celebratory and full of happy tears. A part of a story was read and blessings were placed upon the baby as he began his own story. The funeral was sad of course, as they are, and full of tears, but also had its celebratory moments. The program was headed with the phrase, “Every Life Has a Story”, and stories there were. We all told stories of a life remembered. It was what helped us all work past the tears.
The same Sunday as the baby dedication I took myself to the movies to see the Martin Scorsese film Hugo. I absolutely adored it. Let me try to summarize. Hugo, a young boy living in France with his father, who is a clock maker, ends up becoming an orphan and living in a train station tending to the clocks after he loses his father in a fire. Before he died, Hugo’s father found a clockwork automaton figure, and he and Hugo were working together to fix it. Of course now that his father is gone, Hugo carries on the project by himself and through many adventures and trials he uncovers the mystery of the automaton and the story behind it.
The movie talks about things, people, that are broken and what it takes to fix them. Hugo tells a friend of his that the reason he likes machines is that they are made to do something and know exactly what it is. He stands at the top of the train station, behind the clock, and tells his friend that after his father died he would go up in there to look out at the city. He said he saw the city as one big machine, full of moving parts. He says that machines come with all the parts they need to do what they were meant to, with no extra parts, and each of the parts has a specific purpose to fulfill within the machine itself. He says that it gave him comfort to think of the whole world as one big machine, because that meant he was a part of it and here for a reason, he just had to figure out what it was. Of course by the end of the movie Hugo has found his place, and ends up where he belongs, a perfect happy ending. Isn’t that what all of us are after, a place in this world?
Another part of the movie was the role and importance of storytelling, namely through the medium of movies (it is a Scorsese film after all). It showed how stories inspire us, entertain us, and touch our hearts. The movie ends with Hugo’s friend sitting down with a notebook to write down an account of his story. For me this reinforced my belief in my gift of writing. All stories, even and perhaps most especially fantastical ones like the movie Hugo, are important. How horrible this life would be if we had no fantasy, no other worlds to escape to! I am in love with the idea of being someone who can create that for people and I desperately hope one day I am.
After the week I had had, I realized the importance of real life stories as well. Thinking of the baby dedication I thought of all the stories he would be told. Stories to put him to sleep, stories of how he was born, stories of his family and their history that will all help to make him the person he will become. He will carry on those stories eventually to his children and so on and so forth so that the legacy of his family will be carried on, connecting the generations through time. Then, reflecting on the funeral, there were high emotions at first, great sorrow and sadness. However, once we had a chance to cry our tears and sit for a few minutes, all we were left with were stories, stories that made us smile and even laugh.
Storytelling is one of the oldest traditions in the world. More than any possessions or pictures, what lasts are the stories in one’s life. They bring some joy to sad occasions; pass on history to future generations. Stories touch people, inspire, provide escape and I love that. I want to be a part of it and when my life ends I want there to be an abundance of stories. The past couple weeks were full of ups and downs, happiness and sadness, but somehow, like a big machine, it all seems to fit together like clockwork.
In Memory of Helen Clark