Renaissance

I think i’ve mentioned it before: my vague ambition to someday write a book (or something) about the "Maple Ridge Renaissance" (a strangely localized explosion of creative brilliance i witnessed among friends and acquaintances in the late 90s, which continues to inspire me today). I was reminded of that project this morning, while reflecting on recent events in my personal life.

An obvious point of reference is my birthday. I’ve been 33 for three days now… and i’ve been feeling compelled (by some numerological and nostalgic impulse) to write a list of reasons why Back to the Future Part 3 was such a dismally disappointing movie. But of course Roger Ebert has taken care of that for me. And, as i should have expected, he did better than that; he concludes with the following wisdom:

“The one thing that remains constant in all of the "Back to the Future" movies, and which I especially like, is a sort of bittersweet, elegiac quality involving romance and time. In the first movie, McFly went back in time to be certain his parents had their first date. The second involved his own romance. The third involves Doc Brown and Clara. In all of these stories, there is the realization that love depends entirely on time. Lovers like to think their love is eternal.

But do they ever realize it depends entirely on temporal coincidence, since, if they were not alive at the same time, romance hardly would be feasible?”

Ebert, as always, demonstrates the rich rewards of applying genius attention to ostensibly mundane material. And Ebert is, obviously, a genius in the classic sense: i predict he will be honored posthumously as one of the greatest writers of the modern era. His reviews remind me of Walter Benjamin’s insightful sensitivity and awareness of the latent significance in each layer of life’s routine scrapheap.

So my inexplicable resurgent fascination with Back to the Future — a cinematic mythos that dramatically shaped my imaginative horizons — during the days before and after my birthday, serendipitously led me to Ebert’s brilliant soliloquy about love, which speaks directly and eloquently to the tide of feelings that has lately both buoyed my spirits and flooded my fearful heart.

I have always tried to live with appreciation of luck. I have said hundreds of times, over many, many years, that i must be one of the luckiest people on Earth. The reasons keep piling up, and my fascination with fortune deepens with my appreciation.

I have a lot to be grateful for; now more than ever.

After everything i’ve put her through, Sara still welcomes me into her life, and loves me with a gentle generosity i feel profoundly unworthy of.

She made me a Christmas-themed birthday: filled my stocking with chocolate and comic books, and baked me a Guinness / Black Forest cake. And Roy gave me Duplo that we can play with together, along with the most precious hugs and kisses a dad could ask for.

I don’t know how or why i am so fortunate, but i desperately want to do what’s right with all i’ve been given.

As i continue to work on refining my purpose, i look forward to my days and nights with this family — luxuriating in simple quotidian pleasures like eating, watching movies, and playing. And with time, i’ll get better at moving through turbulent feelings, including my fear that it’s all just a dream.