Another case of the Reflections

I've got another case of reflectiveness again. It's my blog, I don't think anyone reads it, so I guess I can indulge. I'm here at work and I should be busy. But I'm taking just a few minutes to write because if I don't the moment will escape me. This happens to me about once every month or so. Just depends on the time of year, I guess. This is one of them.

It's easy to reflect on the past when the present and future are pretty good. It started over the weekend sitting out at the pool. Sitting by the swimming pool is for me a stark reminder that it's summer. Not a profound thing, but it is what it is (2007 called, Jay. It wants its cliche back).

I tend to be consumed by time. Not in a sense where I watch the clock, but moreso that years are like names and dots on a road map. I like to classify years. Each year is unique, and points to the lamentation that there is a time for everything. 1996 and 1993 were both good years, but they were unique. 1996 was more profound; more meaningful. So was 1997. 1998, 1995, and 2001 were hard dark years. But 1998 is an abyss, while 2001 is brick to the spine. 2002 was its own abyss, but was a lesson learned.

2007 was the most unique year of all, possibly. It started painful, but with that pain I began a hard journey. I won't say I found myself; when does one? But in 2007, I began to "befriend" myself. I realized how weak I was, but how much stronger I could be. This time last year, I was ill a bunch due to an allergy burst and I was still kind of reeling from a breakup (one I shouldn't have taken as hard as I did). I was also getting ready to move. The last week of June of 2007 I was preparing to move away into a place that wasn't any better than where I had left, but was a change of scenery. I was so happy to be moving. I was also looking forward to a trip alone to Las Vegas. The trip ended up being an event unto itself, with its own exposures and reflections.

I guess what makes me think of all of this is I recently put in a library request for Howard Shore's Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring score. This time last year, I was listening to it in my car for a couple of weeks straight. I lost it on my iPod, so I'm going to attempt to re-download it. I just think back to last year how happy I was just for something different. I was so excited for a change in my life. It's just another thing I give thanks for in the middle of a difficult time.

I've written before about my favorite scene in any movie ever. It's the scene in Cast Away when Tom Hanks's character has finally broken the reef to escape the island that has both held him captive and kept him alive. When it finally dawns on him that he is done with that time in his life, he pauses to just look at the island. He doesn't say anything. There is only a beautiful piece of score in an otherwise mostly musicless film. He turns Wilson around, and they just quietly watch the island get smaller and smaller in the distance. I suppose there are a few ways to interpret that scene. But my interpretation has been that Chuck Noland is saluting that island. After all the frustration and contempt for the island, he realizes what it did for him.

We salute our tough times after the escape. We hated it while we were there, but it not only kept us alive. It gave us a story, and made us stronger and a better person.