There’s a scene in “Forrest Gump” where Forrest and his beloved Jenny are taking a walk and come to the house she used to live in with her father who abused her. Jenny sees the dilapidated old place and begins to throw rocks at it, in a fit of rage. When she crumples to the ground, crying and spent, Forrest says, “Sometimes, I guess there just aren’t enough rocks.”
I feel a bit like Jenny tonight, like I’d sure enjoy hurling some well-placed rocks at some haunt from my past. I don’t have rocks; I have words. But sometimes, even those aren’t enough. Or I just can’t manage to put them together in a way that makes sense. Fortunately, I’m a lifetime collector of quotes. I love other people’s words—they inspire, intrigue, madden, and empower me. Tonight, I’m in need of inspiration. So I’m thinking of two other movie quotes besides the one from “Forrest Gump.” The first is from “Shawshank Redemption.” The main character is in prison for a crime he didn’t commit, but he refuses to give up hope. He says to his friend, “I guess it comes down to a simple choice: Get busy living, or get busy dying.”
The minute I heard that quote, I loved it. It’s so profound in its simplicity; it shrinks the vastness of life down into one small choice—living or dying. It’s a simple question whose answer can determine your daily direction. In the midst of the discouragements and disappointments and joys of daily living, what choice are you making? And what are you doing to fulfill that choice? Right now. What are you doing? Living? Dying? This past week, I’ve reminded myself of these words in the middle of discouragement and hurt. I’ve asked myself, What are you doing? When I define it—when I actually make myself answer that question, I find a purpose. I’m making a life here, with my husband and family and friends. And I’m trying, in my own small way, to be a voice of hope and encouragement. To be a little flare of light in the darkness. To say, “I’ve been there. I know how you feel. I hear you. I see you. And you matter.” I want to be that light for somebody who is desperately in need of it—because there were people who lit a path for me when I needed it the most.
We all get so tired. We try and fail. We make false starts again and again. And we get so tempted to say, “I quit. This is too hard.” But how do you quit? Quitting means giving up and looking for an easier way. There isn’t one. You’re either working towards living or you’re working towards dying. You’re not just sitting there, letting time pass. Living or dying? Put that way, I choose to get busy living. I choose to work towards a future instead of letting myself quit, grow stagnant, and have a part of myself die. Yes, it’s hard. Every day is hard. But you have to live through it anyway. So how are you going to spend it?
I’m going to get busy living. Even though it’s hard. And it hurts sometimes. And I’m tempted to quit. That’s when I need my favorite movie quote of all, from the Rocky movies: “One more round.” That’s it: one more round. I ask myself, can I keep this up? And I’m tempted to say, no, I can’t, it’s too hard. There aren’t enough rocks! And yet. . . and yet. . . I hear it. Underneath the rock-throwing panic, I hear it: “Get up, Renee. One more round. So you can’t win a whole fight right now. Can you do one more round?” And I’m in. Tonight, there aren’t enough words. But tomorrow, there will be. Enough for one more round. Again. And again. One more round. It’s time to get busy.
“I know what I have to do now. I’ve got to keep breathing
because tomorrow the sun will rise. Who knows
what the tide could bring?”
Cast Away
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Comments 4
Beautiful Renee, you still wrote the story yourself, you just borrowed a few phrases to help you along in what you are trying to express and all three bring flashbacks for me. The rock throwing– a telephone I broke on the kitchen counter to silence forever the voice that continued hurling insults at me–the time I made the decision to fight for my life and get better ( God did heal me)– and the one more round on a daily basis as I get up and say I think I can do this day as I struggle to make sense of the why and what for. I once had a special person in my building who was alienated from his family and who was going to die. I spend every night with him in the hospital and even bought him more for a few more rounds in his beloved little home when requested. His famous words were “so what-what for-and- who cares”. In those last six weeks I learned much about Winston and we started answering some of those questions together. His family asked me to conduct the service in the wee chapel at the hospital and as his ex wife, daughter and special needs son sat in the front row, I reiterated some of the answers we had come up with and all three shed nothing but tears. For perhaps the first time in their life they learned what this husband and father had offered up for his family and the love he had always had in his heart for them and for so many others, and at times I borrow his three sayings and remember Winston in my heart. Keep writing Renee, you are asking honest question and give us all pause to think and think again!
Klara, I have tears in my eyes. What a beautiful story. And now I’ll remember Winston, too. Those are great questions to really make myself answer–so what, what for, and who cares. Because I do tend to say those to myself a lot. I need to have those answers. Thank you for this beautiful comment. I’ve said it before–you add so, so much to my posts! Thank you for that and for your encouragement. Much love to you.
Beautiful story tonight Renee!
I had just finished reading this story:
http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/features/the-story-behind-johnny-cash-s-hurt-still-the-saddest-music-video-of-all-time-a6683371.html
Hard to get through the internet weeds but the song is heart wrenching and the story even more so. His wife died shortly after recording this song and he died shortly after (I’m sure) a broken heart!
Whenever I’m at my lowest I always force myself to realize someone else has hurt the same or worse and then I don’t feel so alone.
It would be interesting to hear your perspective. ?
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Thank you, Steve. I just watched the video and read the article–beautiful, poignant, and heartbreaking. The song is. . . haunting. Wow. And you’re right–knowing someone else felt the way you do is such a comfort.
You’re never alone. Thank you for this, tonight.