The other day I went on a double date with Mr K and my older brother and sister-in-law to see the new film ‘Batman vs Superman’. The film choice wasn’t mine, but I have enjoyed some of the superhero films in recent years, and I was just happy to have some time out on the town.
We settled in with popcorn and wine (oh how classy cinemas are these days), and I was looking forward to a good story. Although the film was beautifully shot, after half an hour I was still looking for the story. After an hour I was bored. After 90 minutes I was actually getting really annoyed that I was sat there spending our rare night out watching gratuitous violence. I started asking myself why, when all day long I search for pockets of quiet time, have I filled my night off with guns and explosions?
And then I walked out.
Outside the screening hall there was a cosy bench overlooking the harbour outside. I could see the moon reflected in the sea, and the little lights of the moored yachts winked at me. I got out my notebook and began to write. And here’s what I wrote:
“My brain wants emotion, story, human drama, kindness, intellectual challenge, gentleness, humour, happiness. It doesn’t want aliens and noise and violence and bright lights and fast movement. Before I walked out tonight, I spent 20 minutes with my eyes shut. And then I realised I don’t actually have to sit there. I can just leave. So I did, and it’s lovely out here. The lobby and bar are empty, I can see the ships outside, and the long reflections of the light on the water. Greens and yellows and whites. I’m not annoyed any more, except that I forgot to bring my coat or I could have gone for a walk. I’m happy to be out here, and the difference between out here and in there is so telling, so significant. Out here all I can hear are the hum of a vending machine, the night porter’s footsteps on the metal stairs, and the crunching of the rubbish bag he is taking outside.
Why did it take me so long to get out of my seat? Because I wanted value for money from the ticket I had paid for? More bangs for my buck? Was it being worried about what the others would think, worried that I had disturbed them by leaving? Was it because it’s just not polite to walk out of cinemas? Whatever it was keeping me in that seat, I need to lose it. I need to make the decision to walk out much sooner next time. The others didn’t care – they were focused on the film. And when I got outside my whole body relaxed, I soaked in the quiet and I was instantly happier.”
Life’s too short to watch films that don’t move you, to read books that don’t interest you (yes it’s OK to quit at page 98), to stick with a job that doesn’t inspire you, to be in a relationship that doesn’t make you shine. It’s too short for any of that. If you don’t like it, get up and walk out. The ticket price doesn’t change whether you watch the whole film or just the trailers, so get out as soon as you realise you are in the wrong place. Go find the peace outside the door.
This week I challenge you to forfeit the final scene of something you don’t care about, for the opening scene of something you do.
Have a good one
Beth
