Something profound is sandwiched in between the two videos in this post and I am not sure how to explain, describe or tell you about it.
Maybe because it is among the most powerful things I have ever experienced. Maybe it is because it is too raw, too painful to share, too hard to ignore and too important not to write about.
Perhaps that is why I who never suffer from writer’s block has been staring at this page and fighting to find an extension of the clip above. I want to share the part where Costner asks what “Go the Distance” means and James Earl Jones says it means they are going to find Moonlight Graham.
I remember watching Field of Dreams in the theater the year it came out. Remember watching the scene here where Moonlight Graham crosses the line and turns into Doc Graham and feeling choked up.
Twenty-Four Years Later
Twenty-four years later I am in the midst of a tale I will write about one day and all I can say is this movie makes more sense to me than it ever has.
I never watched it for anything other than pure joy. Never thought of it as anything but fun and in some ways enjoyed it even more when I watched it with my son.
But today it feels different and I can only attribute it to how it ties into the last five years of my life, more specifically these last nine months. In a way it has helped to answer some questions that came up, big questions that have been making me pace around my home.
Don’t ask me to articulate what those questions and answers are because I can’t put it into words for you. Some of you will find that frustrating so all I can say is if you can see my face when you close your eyes than you can figure this out because this is not rhyme or reason.
It is not science. It is that place that lies somewhere in between, that moment we created that never ended. It is the secret world that only two people who have visited can occupy.
So I suppose if you understand what it means to have your heartbroken because something is too beautiful and if you understand what it means to dance in the fire because the world is too cold without it than you might see what lies beneath the veil.
The Notebook
Sometimes a blog is like a notebook that is filled with stories, moments and memories that many people can follow, appreciate and enjoy.
And sometimes it is just a place where you can remember what it was like to spend an evening holding hands with someone who makes you blush and wonder what they could possibly see in you.
Sometimes you force yourself to push those moments away because they suck you into a vortex of love and you know the timing just isn’t right for that, not now.
But in between the moments, the struggle to keep up with life’s daily routine and regimen you start to hear the quiet of your own heart and it becomes clear that what you thought was impossible was not and is not. Life has done more than just remind you about possibilities turning into opportunities.
It has proven that you would be a fool to think there isn’t something going on in the universe, some sort of guide, voice or intuition pushing you to consider doing something you never would have tried.
You would have to be an idiot not to recognize the profound and the sublime because when you are given such gifts you take them. You go the distance and you do your damnedest to be aware of the moments and to share your gratitude because you never know when the chapter ends.
Nor do you know if the ending you think you see and know coming is really the end. It might just be the universe declaring intermission so that it can catch its breath and send you on your next journey.
TheJackB
Gina1Â Took close to 50 years for me to get to this point and even now I am not entirely sure about it. Mostly I am just going off a gut feeling that I am on the right path.
Life in the land of big hats is coming along.
Gina1
“the quiet of your own heart” I had the opportunity to experience a lot of this recently but it took me awhile to get there. To quiet my heart. This post was very touching. I hope things are going well for you down there in the land of big hats.