the up-in-the-air triptych, panel two: falling

the second flight metaphor arrived back on the day i wound up falling in the hole. unfortunately, despite its power, this metaphor had a decidedly different effect on me and was, in many ways, the complete opposite of my amelia earhart fortune.

to recap, that day was not at all a great day for me. and, that morning, i reluctantly hauled myself to a screening of Crazy Heart. though i so wished i’d be seeing something funny or uplifting (or, even better, that i didn’t have to see anything at all and could just stay home), i was obliged to attend.

Crazy Heart is the jeff bridges drama about a once-great country-music star, who’s fallen so far from any kind of grace that hitting bottom might be considered a step up. he’s an alcoholic and wildly self-destructive and yet, while battling his demons, he struggles to build a relationship with a much-younger “good woman” (maggie gyllenhaal) and revive his career. it’s a textbook redemption story, and one that, despite its many accolades, is not without its flaws.

but at one point in the film, bridges’ character, bad blake, croaks out a song that contains the lyric:

“sometimes falling feels like flying... for a little while.”
and as soon as i heard it, the words were seared into my consciousness. there was something so poignant in that simple line, so sad but so knowing, and it struck a chord within me.

its context in the film is specific, but i think its meaning is curiously eloquent regardless of the interpretation.

sometimes, things that turn out badly can still possess moments of beauty and wonder along the way.

sometimes, what may hurt now felt amazing at some point.

sometimes, it’s easier to close your eyes and believe in magic than open them to the truth.

and, sometimes, traveling through life is confusing. sometimes perilous, sometimes thrilling.

so, as i sat in the dark theatre on that equally dark day – feeling emotionally delicate, already fighting back the tears that had welled earlier in the morning, and with a good 40 minutes of film-watching privacy to go before i’d have to head back out into the world – i let myself cry.

remembering the flying, feeling the falling.