Andie.ink

I remember the Day Hook came out on video. My Mom bought it for us. It was around Thanksgiving. Actually it might have been on Thanksgiving. I’m pretty sure we watched it four times that day. 

Four. 

WHEW. What a wild childhood I had! Living on the edge… of brain damage. 

It’s one of my favorite movies as I love Peter Pan, and had a dream once that my biological father was Robin Williams. 

(BTW, my biological father actually does look like him a bit.)

I can quote it still to this day and when I let my son watch a few bits and pieces he got upset because I was quoting it and wouldn’t just let him watch. He does this to me with Owl City songs, so I feel like we are even. 

There is this scene that hits me more as an adult then it did when I was a child, but it has always been one of my favorites. The scene is as such (for those of you who haven’t seen it. I’m not sure what kind of person hasn’t seen Hook, but you know… people make mistakes):

Peter has turned into a business man who can’t see past the end of his reading glasses and has buried himself so deep into his dream of success that he has in fact *spoiler alert* ( AND AGAIN, if you haven’t seen this movie, and you need the spoiler alert, I’m pretty sure you are Kimmy Schmidt in real life)

Anyway… Peter is in fact Peter Pan and he can’t remember. His wife Moira is actually Wendy’s Granddaughter. Wendy is played by Maggie Smith because she’s the best and I actually wouldn’t be surprised if she REALLY WAS Wendy.

Anyway… this scene is chaos and Peter’s work life is chaos and his kids are running around in chaos and his own daughter is starting to put together who he really is and  in this scene she is actually playing Wendy and Peter is ON HIS PHONE and in the midst of this chaos Moira says to him… and this is SOOOOO good:

“Peter… you’re missing it.”

IT.

YOU ARE MISSING IT.

She’s not just referring to the play. She’s referring to the fact that he is so engrained in his job that he is missing his kid’s lives, her love and the remaining time he has with Wendy etc. Also the fact that you know… you know… 

HE IS BLOODY PETER PAN.

But for me today it rings through into something else. I stand here in the middle of my chaos. Kids, and mess, and laundry, and house issues, and my husband’s new job, and dinners to be made, and foster paperwork and schedules and I’m being pulled in every which way…

yet. 

There. Just below the surface I can hear something chanting down deep in my soul. 

It’s quiet. It’s bold. It’s steadfast. It has rhythm and when I tune into that channelof my  life and I hear the heartbeat coming through the speakers… it hurts a little. Not hurts.. but it’s uncomfortable in the sense that it’s pulling. I feel like God is standing in front of me and he has a rope attached to this heavy brick of a thing that he placed in my gut when he molded the clay I came from. He’s standing there pulling this rope and I can feel the brick rising within. 

“This,” He says, “This is it. This is the work I have for you.”

It’s painful because …

It’s a freaking brick. It’s heavy and big and rough. 

It’s painful because I am being distracted by so many other things around me. It hurts less if I swallow the drug of social media or the mess in my house, or keeping my kids live too busy, or even my hobbies like knitting or scrapbooking or the tasting of the wine… THOSE feel goooooooooooood.

This feels like spiritual childbirth. 

Also like childbirth… I have no idea what I am doing. I have to get this thing out and accomplish it, but I have no idea how. 

I feel like I am missing it. 

This isn’t an inspirational blog or a blog with a purpose. 

It’s a writer’s blog. It’s the notes in the margin’s of Hemingway’s great works. 

It’s the sketches that came before Michelangelo did before the Sistine Chapel. 

Or for the more realistic example:

It’s the birth plan that never got used because the baby had other ideas. 

I know what the brick is. 
I’ve paid attention to the clues. 

I know I’m being pulled. 

But I’m missing it. 

It’s right there in front of my face, but I can’t quite make it tangible. 

I know this is something a lot of people struggle with. 

You feel like you are missing your calling even though you can feel the tug in your gut. 

Grasping at straws per say. 

What’s are you missing?

What does it feel like? 

Do you think it’s too late?

What if you keep missing it and never get it right?