Last night I watched The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou for a second time, enjoying all the things I missed the first time, those hidden jokes and layers of meaning that somehow passed me by. (Things have a habit of going over my head.)
Wouldn't it be wild to have that function in that everyday realm we call life -- that ability to see and live again what we missed the first time out?
Some people try to do that now, of course, videotaping weddings and hockey games, bar mitzvah's and baby showers, snapping photos meant for a lifetime of perusal. (Yes, I just used the word 'perusal' in a sentence. Please don't hold it against me.)
I'm not talking about that kind of (usually) harmless looking back.
But what if we could relive our lives the way we rewatch our favorite movies? What if we could inhabit ourselves once again as we moved through the days, weeks, months and years that led to our current, fluid moment in time. Knowing what lay ahead, we could spot the subtle glances and awkward pauses we missed the first time out, those clues that indicated change, upheaval, disruption. The good parts would be that much more poignant, the bad parts that much more...
There's the rub.
The scary parts you've seen in a movie become less and less frightening the second, third and fourth times you've watched them. Having to go back, view and endure those moments in life would be, well, counterproductive.
Best to look ahead. Best to glance, back yes, but not stay back. Better yet to somehow place yourself between the rewind and fast-forward button, remembering to pause every now and then, if only to savor the here and the now for a little while longer.
