So, there's a scene in the movie "Twilight" where Edward the vampire, and Bella the human are in the woods and Bella has discovered Edward's secret. She's uncertain. The situation is dangerous. She loves him regardless of that danger and the risk involved.
As she begins to unfurl her theory about what he truly is, Edward wants Bella to face that truth, finally becoming impatient and demanding that she just come out with it.
"Say it!" He demands, and then pauses for dramatic effect. "Out loud."
And finally, Bella relents. "Vampire."
It's amazing to me how well this scene actually mimics real life. I know, you must be thinking I'm delusional, after all, nobody I know actually believes that vampires exist--not even me. What I mean is, the hemming and hawing, and fearfulness of being direct.
Most of us are afraid to share our true feelings about a lot of things. We're afraid, sometimes, to tell people what they mean to us, or that they have done something that is particularly meaningful for us. Other times, we're afraid because we don't want to expose too much of ourselves to someone else.
Why after unraveling Edward's secret did Bella hesitate to say the words? Vampires are dangerous, to be sure. Their diet consists, after all, of blood and they prefer human blood to any other kind. So it's plausible that Bella might have been in fear for her life. But those of us who have read the books and seen all the movies know that the real reason she was afraid was because she was afraid saying it would drive him away. She was more afraid of losing him than losing her life.
That's the common thread. We're afraid to damage or lose our connections.
In the last few days, I've had get-togethers with two friends--one new and one old. Both brought things to the surface that I don't like to look at, let alone talk about. And some of those things are unfounded and unreasonable perceptions and feelings that only serve to make me feel bad and allow me to stay in a pattern that's failing to serve any good purpose.
We all make choices in our lives, for better or worse, and those choices shape the paths that our lives take. If we're lucky, we aren't on that path alone. But sometimes, when we're unhappy, we start to wonder if we aren't dragging the other person along our own path and disregarding theirs. Sometimes we think that we can't take an exit to get back on the right track because we feel like we've gone on a wild goose chase and we don't want to harm the other person more with our galavanting around.
There was some deep discussion coming back from our trip to Chicago today. Time in a car and sleep deprivation tends to lead to deep conversation. During that conversation, Jeph said something to me that was a lot like someone grabbing me and violently shaking me. The thing about it is, he'd said the same thing before, just not in the "in your face" way that he said it today.
The fact that I hadn't ever really "heard" it is a tribute to one simple fact: He loves me.
Most people who know Jeph would never describe him as indirect, but unlike most people, I live with him, we have two dogs together and we've been together for more than eighteen years. That's a lot of connection and a lot of history. But he loves me, and he knows that just right now, I'm in a place where one "wrong" word can and will push me over the edge.
The problem--sometimes we need to be pushed over the edge. Sometimes the only way to stop teeter tottering is to fall of the cliff so we can try to find a way back up. By the same token, sometimes we need others to reach out to us and tell us what they're thinking because it's the rope we can hang onto when we're trying to climb back up.
I have a friend that I am just getting to know. She reads my blog and some other things I write, but it's hard for her to tell me what she thinks sometimes.
In returning to that scene from "Twilight" with Bella and Edward, I think we've already cleared up that Bella wasn't afraid of being breakfast, lunch or dinner. So, what else might she have been afraid of? What if she was wrong? Then she would have been embarrassed--mortified. How could she face him again after revealing such a ludicrous idea? Just because she figured it out, what right did she have to assume he wanted her to know? She might be overstepping. After all, it's not like they knew each other that well.
The fear of embarrassment ties back to fear of loss of connection. If we say too much--if we gush, will we be rejected?
In the case of Edward and Bella, the only way that they could know each other better or strengthen their connection was to take away the wall between them. That wall was Edward's secret. Without Bella knowing his secret, Edward couldn't be himself. Without Bella knowing his secret, he couldn't learn that he also could trust her to keep it. He might have preferred for her not to know and, for her safety, for the connection not to have strengthened, but at least in the case of Edward and Bella, love conquers all, and there was never really any other reasonable outcome.
In the case of my new friend, she couldn't know that my biggest dream harbors my greatest fear. I have dreamed of becoming a real writer for most of my life. The tiny, early stabs I took at it weren't successful. It doesn't matter why they weren't successful, like most people, the scars of those failures have handicapped me. I'm too afraid to really put myself out there, because I'm afraid those losers I failed with were probably right--otherwise, why would I have failed? And so, at the risk of appearing egomaniacal, I need feedback like most people need air. Without it, I can't breathe.
So, say it! Whatever it is. It's a risk. It's a leap. What's on the other side really matters.
http://youtu.be/oYJR6F6AiXE
No comments:
Post a Comment