“The Sorcerer’s Stone” Platform 9 and 3/4
Oscar Wilde once said, “Life imitates art far more than art imitates life.” I think that might be one of those chicken versus egg kind of questions. You know, which came first? But in this instance, I believe Oscar is right.
The other night we were watching the first Harry Potter movie (The Sorcerer’s Stone.) I think it’s safe to say that we view art through current circumstances. And in this case, I couldn’t help but feel as though that movie was imitating our life. Or our life is currently imitating that movie? Was it the chicken or the egg?
Anyway, we had grown quite used to living under the stairs. We were accustomed to meeting the expectations put upon us by ourselves and others. We followed the rules. And then something changed. An invitation of sorts.
We accepted the invitation. It meant David retiring and us moving out to the country. We made our way to the train station and stood perplexed at our ticket. There is no Platform nine and three quarters. Now what?
Oh! We run full speed ahead straight at a brick wall! Of course! Why didn’t we think of that?
Leaving behind all that we know, full speed and unlimited internet, the camaraderie of the department, and the security of a schedule, to name a few, has left us running at a brick wall. But we are running. Full speed ahead. Uprooting or making a change of any kind feels like running straight at a brick wall somewhere between platform nine and platform ten and hoping not to splat.
And it isn’t the first time we’ve done this. I remember when David was diagnosed with PTSD and it felt like we were running straight toward a brick wall. No idea what was on the other side or even if we would make it to the other side. But we ran. We ran toward help.
We made it through the brick wall and found help. And that helps us believe. It helps us believe that this time, what lies on the other side, is a magical place beyond our wildest dreams.
Reality check. Perhaps we won’t see that this side of heaven but maybe we will find an adventure. At the very least.
Are you running at a brick wall too? What do you hope to find on the other side?
06/12/2012 at 11:58 am Permalink
I am running at a brick wall called “common sense” and “what has happened to others” and “who am I to think I could be different?” Like you, the magical place is undefined. Thanks for this, Rebecca. May the wall be a mirage after all.
10/12/2012 at 7:34 am Permalink
As usual, your unique perspective puts things into such interesting terms. This “running into a brick wall and finding a magical place” reminds me of having children. My whole world stopped and was remade in a very different — but decidedly better — place.
Right now, my brick wall has many individual bricks I could list, but overall I would say it is the transition to a new way of life with my husband at home, our jobs now somewhat virtual/mobile, and living on the road. Weird. Different. But immensely rewarding and adventurous.
And truly, I’ll take the challenge and risk of adventure over the safety of the mundane any day. *wink*
09/01/2013 at 6:49 pm Permalink
My own “brick wall” is the fear I have of changes in my life right now and how to conquer or should I say enjoy them and just relax and appreciate the life God has so wonderfully made available to me right now in my life. “thy will be done.”
10/01/2013 at 8:46 am Permalink
Amen! I love the next line of the Lord’s prayer. “…On earth as it is in heaven.” It just helps me to think that God’s will is being done in heaven. May it be so here on earth. 🙂 Thanks for sharing Cathy!