Tagged: happy
Positive Vibes.
Theatrical Thursday – Big, 1988.
The year was 1988. I’d spent countless hours begging my mother incessantly in that desperate, nine-year-old beggary voice, begging for the chance to see Big in the theaters. I went so far as to cut the picture of it from the film section of the newspaper (it was a big, goofy picture of Tom Hank’s face), and I’d carry it around with me and show it to her with the hope of annoying her into taking me to see it. When she finally did, I loved it then and for many years to come. I’ve seen the film about 786 times to date, but seeing it again recently after a very long while opened my eyes to a few key elements that a nine-year-old’s eyes will never see. The main character, Josh Baskin, wished “to be big”; he got his wish, and woke up one morning looking like grown-up Tom Hanks. Most of the movie involved Tom acting like he was twelve, but what I hadn’t noticed before was the emphasis on choices. I had no idea that the movie was so complex; taken apart, it had some very deep inner workings.
As an adult, the kid found great success working at MacMillan Toys, cultivated a great love with Susan (the love interest), and developed a maturity that most twelve-year-olds would never possess. He also earned a pretty powerful conundrum that most kids don’t have to endure; having to choose between prematurely continuing a successful adult life or reverting to the comforting reality of his youth. In my opinion, the most powerful scene in the film was when he went back home in adult form and witnessed firsthand what he had, and ultimately would miss out on if he chose the adult path. The ‘innocence’ of youth; friends, games, and family stared him in the face, and either decision that he chose to make was bound to hurt someone. It showed that life revolves around choices, great or small, and how ultimately, you must make the decision that’s best for you.
He followed his heart and went back to his family and his younger self in the end, but his decision to do so was embedded in my head for a few days after I’d watched the movie. So many of us in life, when confronted with great decisions, freeze up from indecision, and rather than formulate a well-calculated battle plan, we end up making none and float through life under the mercy of fate. It takes incredible character to exert the power of choice, despite the odds. Hey, if the kid in the film was able to make a sound decision that would affect the lives of everyone around him, then we should all be able to, right? Twenty-eight years after seeing Big, I finally got a sense of the soul of the movie; follow your heart, and you’ll find your way. It’s never too late to learn that message.
11-9-16
Go and Find It.
Enthusiasm.
From the Vault.
Originally posted on 7-12-11.
I searched the desert sands
just to later realize that I was in the
jungle;
and the pool of water that I sought so
desperately was just within reach,
only I was too parched to
swallow-
and by that point, too weak to
stand.
I lay there on my back,
atop a mossy patch of green, tangled
earth, while
insects trekked over me as if I were
an abandoned log-
they went about their way,
in search of their own sparkling oases.
The leaves around me rustled with
life,
and the brush was alive with movement.
I lay motionless, staring at the soaring
blue sky,
deep and blue and rich
with a tint of yellow orange sun,
absorbing the sounds of my temporary
confinement.
I heard feet brush past me-
I’d closed my eyes to rest, you see, and
I followed the hurried sound with my ears
and opened them slowly to see myself
walking toward the pool,
which was only a few paces away,
right in front of me…
the entire time.
I wearily watched this version
stride to the pool and take a drink;
how effortless it truly was, and
then I questioned how difficult I’d made it
out to be, sipping from that pool.
I turned back to the sky
and cursed this alternate me,
enraged at the thought of what could
be-
but I was only cursing myself…
I realized then that I wandered the desert
because I never thought that I was
worthy of a drink*
-G. Boston
From the Vault.
Poems from the Vault.
Originally posted on 10-8-12, this poem is a little reminder that there is hope at the end of every dark tunnel, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem. The key is to keep moving forward; pushing, clawing, grinding…whatever it takes, until your eyes can see clearly once more. Always reach out to those going through troubles; lend a helping hand, and make a point to uplift rather than put down. Make an effort to find your peace…and help others discover theirs. And remember to never fear the journey.
Twenty years imbalanced.
Twenty years spent roaming the stillness and
bedding down in a locked room.
Twenty years imbalanced-
a steaming brew boiled within those walls,
bubbling over and staining the pot with its
drippings.
Bubbles rose to the surface and exploded
into nothing-
spirits rose and fell like ocean tides,
and emotions rode those waves like daring
surfers in search of that unattainable thrill.
Thoughts and hopes and dreams appeared and
dissipated like gobs of rain under a hot sun-
twenty years imbalanced-
parched and afloat, drifting along choppy seas,
surrounded by irony, and unable to take a sip-
the know how just wasn’t yet there,
so he treated himself like a book,
and became an encyclopedia-
detailed, methodical,
and yet dusty and unread,
his pages stained with longing and mystery.
He learned to read himself, word for word,
until a detailed silhouette materialized.
A volume was left open on a table one
morning,
close to an open window-
a ripe plum purple morning, threaded
with the orange mists of dawn, and streaked
with whispering winds-
winds that meandered through the window and stirred
the sediments of dust and waste…
an eager gust crept along the table and
managed to turn a page…
Twenty years imbalanced.
Twenty years unsteady, unguided, unheard-
twenty years locked behind silent, mirrored walls,
examining and learning the words of himself-
the opening of that window flipped a page,
just a random page,
with a new one resting calmly beside it-
a new chapter-
waiting eagerly under
the brilliance of the rising sun*
6-13-16
5-6-16
There is a mythical beast
that dominates our lives
and takes center stage-
it forces us to expend great energy
planning our attack, preparing our approach,
and hoping for a swift and decisive victory.
We catch its scent, we plot its course,
and then we set our sights on it until
the moment comes to make the kill.
And so when Friday finally emerges,
we bag our kill and we
are instantly glad, and we are
wonderfully happy.
Friday has taken the guise of a mythical beast.
Smiles that didn’t exist twenty four
hours before it seem to paint the
landscape in bright ivory.
Frowns give way to teeth that hadn’t
been visible all week, teeth that
are now flashed in blinding laughter and grins
everywhere.
We have surrendered the gloom
to the illuminous power of The Friday.
The clouds have parted.
TGIF.
Happy Friday.
Friday is a beast that we have
come to depend on,
so much so that we scurry through
all the other days just to reach it.
We have become slaves to the grind.
We clamber about, rushing and breezing
through its lesser loved brethren,
wishing and hoping that Friday will
come soon and now, to rescue us from
whatever it is that we are running from.
And then what? It’s over before it began,
and then we don our hunting gear
once more.
In the meantime, life is lived in the
blink of an eye,
light years faster than it should,
with so much of it centered on a single
mad dash toward one simple day.
In between, it seems that life itself
is buried under work, stress, and
the mountains of dust kicked up by the mad
dash.
Friday has become our savior, but
we have to remember that there is life
between Friday and Friday.
Enjoy the middle.
No one makes a sandwich with just 2
pieces of bread.
Enjoy the middle…there are too many
flavors to taste.
-G.Boston






