The unbearable lightness of being

Do we go through life like a feather, taking us wherever the breeze might decide? Or do we chase a destiny like a pre-programmed automaton? Today, we come to you from the Forrest Gump school of philosophy. I like to keep abreast of the latest developments in modern thought. I’ve been known to dip into Karl Jung or peruse a BBC4 documentary on the unbearable lightness of being. I’ve spent many the drunken night in Dublin debating whether we exist or not with the world’s leading expert on the subject (that would be Snoopy, who cunningly managed not to exist whenever it was his round). I’ve even gone toe-to-toe with my mate Mark, the only person I know who has done a philosophy Masters. He did a primary degree and then realised he’d never get a job in this area. So he had to do a Master’s degree so that he would better understand why not getting a job is irrelevant.

But whenever I really want to understand philosophy, I dip into Forrest Gump. It might be simplistic or entertainment driven, but there’s something about his quest for meaning in a mad world that touches me. Whenever, I’m asked what my favorite film is, I’ll throw out a couple of Woody Allen movies, or if I’m trying to impress my questioner, I’ll come up with a dark 1970’s film, in a foreign language with an unhappy ending. Truthfully however, Forrest Gump is my favorite. It may have something to do with the fact that I saw it first saw it in September 1994 when I was at the lowest point in my life. I had traveled to Colorado after a long and over serious relationship had ended. I went there to find God, so that I could kick the shit out of him.

I found myself at a loose end one afternoon and disappeared into the comforting darkness of a picture house. The only movie on offer was an unpromising comedy with Tom Hanks, an actor I would normally watch with the enthusiasm of observing paint dry. My mood was not improved by the mid afternoon audience, which resembled the collected guests of the previous years Jerry Springer shows. They laughed, cried out loud and applauded at various points during the movie, emotions I like to reserve for artists who can actually hear your responses.

Two hours later however, I stumbled out into an autumnal Colorado afternoon with my heart feeling like a born again Christian in the moments after his baptism. “God’s make their own importance” Patrick Kavanagh once said (although he may have stolen it from Homer). We search for answers and they come to us in the strangest ways. It could be spiritual, it could be scientific or it could be as simple as a Hollywood fable that arrives in our mental in-box at exactly the point at which our mind is programmed to receive these answers.

The irony is that Forrest Gump provides more questions than answers. Is life just a box of chocolates? You never know what you’re going to get. Or is a blank canvas upon which we can all map our destiny? At the end of the movie Forrest says that he thinks it’s both. That was the line that hooked me and became the reason why I would see this film three times in the cinema, buy the video, the book, the Bubba Gump shrimp company commemorative mug and (I kid you not) the T-Shirt. Stupid is as Stupid does indeed. Then last Christmas, a now former girlfriend in a short and not very serious relationship bought me the DVD.

And so it came to pass that on Saturday night last, I finally got round to watching this DVD. I was in the process of unpacking in my trendy new apartment when I realised I was missing a cable that would connect me to the wonders of Australian TV. So I was forced to delve into my DVD collection and there was Forrest staring at me, fresh in his pristine wrapping and calling out to me that he had the answer to the quest I have undertaken.

I guess I’ve spent my life wondering if I’m personally responsible for everything that happens to me? If so, I feel this as a tremendous and overwhelming burden. Or are we part of a bigger plan, a sequence of seemingly random events that are subtly shaped by us to provide moments of serendipity, passion, pain and disappointment. You can get pretty messed up if you believe that there is a higher power shaping our destiny but when it doesn’t work out, you beat yourself up for not shaping your life better.

Forrest at least made me realize that it’s a bit of both. We can plan our lives and try to live to a program but every now and again events will come along that are either beyond our control or require us to look differently at our plans and adapt them to new circumstances. That’s not failure, its just life. You need a plan, but when events conspire against you, you have to change tack and head for fresh winds. And trust your gut feeling, particularly when you have a gut like mine that stands out as the most substantial part of your body.

As I sat in my furniture less apartment on Saturday with only a TV and DVD player for company, Forrest Gump spoke to me again and told me why I was here. This was where my gut was leading me. In that long desperate summer of 1994, Forrest Gump didn’t give me any new answers. He merely reminded me of something I had written when I was 19, but which took me ten years to really understand.

Today to kiss the lingering doubts goodbye.
To nail the lie.
The alibi of innocence.

Adapt or Die!