Last night, I finally got to see Take This Waltz with my dad. Tribeca film fest flicks won’t be so easy to watch in Tasmania, but hopefully, I’ll pull through. My favorite quote of the entire movie goes to Sarah Silverman, whose character says:
“Life has a gap in it, it just does.”
Sarah Silverman played a recovering alcoholic and Michelle Williams played an active “love addict”: someone who thinks their problems will disappear if he or she can just find the right partner. We all know someone like that, right? A person who jumps from relationship to relationship without so much as a breath in between?
And of course, there’s not always something wrong with that. Sometimes it’s just timing. Sometimes. But in Margot’s case, Michelle William’s character, it was just that she was deathly afraid of being “in between things”.
Oh, gosh, I can relate! Who likes being in between things? Who likes living in limbo? The gaps in life do really tend to stress me out. Margot is so afraid of being in between things, that even switching to a connecting flight overwhelms her. She pretends to need a wheelchair just so that she can be guided to her connecting flight by an air steward/stewardess.
”I’m not scared of missing the flight. I’m scared that I’ll be scared to miss the flight. I guess, I’m just afraid of being afraid.”
Sounds corny, but I get it. I understand wanting to fill your life up with people, with things, so that there are not these PAUSES, these little periods of absence. They always feel like they’ll last forever, but they don’t. We don’t need to be afraid the gaps in life: the time where we are waiting for something to happen. Sometimes, looking back, my life feels like 95% gaps. Last summer, I had a moment where I really fell in love with pauses.
I was standing in Robyn’s driveway on Lord Street, and I was waiting for my cousin to come pick me up at dusk. It was a real pause in life. I couldn’t go back in the house, because I was waiting to be picked up, but I had no idea when exactly he would arrive, so I just had to keep waiting. I knew it was soon, obviously, but I didn’t know exactly when. I didn’t get on my phone, I didn’t play Brickbreaker, I just stood there and waited. I didn’t try to drown out the sensation of NOTHING HAPPENING. And I was okay.
I was more than okay: I was happy. Why shouldn’t we be happy in a pause? It’s liberating. You can’t go back, you can’t go forward, you just have to stay put for a second.