Yesterday I watched the movie Ad Astra, which is latin for “Through hardships to Stars”. How appropriate I think . It’s a movie about one man’s ..voyage into outer… and then inner spaces, and the hardships of both.
It’s about a relationship between a man and the presence of an absent father. The loneliness, the anger, the sense of longing, the disconnection…
It is also a story of courage to seek truth, of the desire to be a different man, of love and it tenderness, of hope and its promises..
As I sat in the aftermath of the movie..I was present to the many stories that got ‘lit’ inside of me, as this outside story resonated…Now I started to listen to my story..
This was also my story about my relationship with my absent dad….and of my waiting and how, in the waiting , my relationship with him morphed into many shapes..move from anger to apathy to care and love. And as this story changes ..so do I..a little bit every time. Somewhat like in the ‘Butterfly effect’ movie..where as you change the “narrative” of the past story you end up through, consequences, to a very different path.. to your current location and therefore are a different person in the current location.
What has this led to ….Coming to the present..
I just (coincidentally ?? ) received my copy of the Artists Way, this morning. I have “used” some exercises from this, recommend this many times..But, I had not… owned this.
As a ritual of writing a note to myself on the inside of the book..I found myself writing ..“Thank you papa”. And… I paused. …allowing myself to register the newness of this statement…I am surprised and slip into a reverie.
He was an Artist and so I am one. And I have finally … allowed myself to say that out loud. I had a difficult relationship with him growing up..which became lot better in that last couple of years before he passed on. I finally began to understand him, after mom passed away, But while I had compassion for him..I had not let myself be him.
Last year in a Mahabharata Immersion program..I suddenly discovered to my disbelief, how much I abhorred the word “Artist” although I sang, painted, danced, wrote etc. etc. I would never allow myself to admit I am an Artist. Because he was one. And I had told myself — I did not want to be like him…THIS narrative was changing….
I realized, I also had a difficult relationship with the Artist in me…I did not want to be seen as one. I did not see this coming…
Part of loving him..was loving the him in me..and in the process setting the Artist free.
Phew !!
All of this..from watching a Movie ….
Coming back to the moment… I am astounded by the power of listening.
My realization is how “Listening ..(in this case to a Movie) is not at all a passive act. As I listen fully to someone’s story my own stories come out to be seen and held and retold and healed.
I change as a Listener. If I allow myself to listen. I can understand why it is difficult to listen sometimes. Because listening is an act of utter vulnerability. If you truly..deeply..listened you may never be the same person again.
I feel grateful to the many many friends, people..authors ..movie makers..poets..artists who have had the courage to tell their stories…I have a renewed respect for their capacity to love and fall headlong upon bed of thorns of colour and words..and bleed. And how, I sit here, as a product of all these stories.
There are no planets and galaxies out there that are not also within us…
We need to keep telling our stories ..in which ever way..in which ever form, it does not matter. There are no good or bad stories…It may be an act of contribution that one can never really fully grasp the impact of, in time and space ..pun intended
And … we need Listen … not just to stories but also, for them..and from them.
This just may be our path to Freedom.
-Rhea
