To see the world, things dangerous to come to, to see behind walls, to draw closer, to find each other, and to feel, that is the purpose of life.
The reason I love Walter Mitty the movie so much, especially this scene, is because I once did something eerily similar before. The movie just gives me a trip down the memory lane, to the time where I went to Tunisia solo, in a totally impromptu manner. Just like Walter, out of a sudden urge to move, cheesy to say but yea, an urge to feel more alive, I booked the flight ticket 3 days before departure, to a country on the African continent, a country I hadn't never been to, a country still in civil unrest and just caught the international attention due to the Arab spring one year before. I left for the unknown country without any prior research and without a plan. And then getting to know a stranger during the flight and proceed to follow him on his car with his friends on a 8-hour drive to a oasis town of Tozeur deep in the Sahara desert. It ended up that they were really kind folks, hosted me for a week there, brought me around town to visit, treated me with many homecook local meals, all and all simply an unforgettable trip. It is so crazy when I come to think about it.
Just like in the scene, while I was walking to check-in counter in the Lyon airport, I still remember the slow-mo feeling, as if everyone surrounding me just moved a bit slower. Stepping into the unknown, heart pounding, my backpack was light, so as my body. My pace was steadfast and steady. Open-minded, razor-sharp focus, driven purely by emotions - adventurous, nervous, angsty, and a bit suicidal. That point I was ready to accept anything the journey would throw at me, ready to look for something beautiful, something more exciting, yes I admit, something more dangerous. Everything was so surreal, so like a movie, that I could almost hear a soundtrack, an epic theme song, playing in the background. I remember that the day before departure on the Christmas' Eve, when my friend asked me what was my plan there, I think I said something along the line of: "I don't have a plan." That is probably the most badass line I've ever said in my life.
Just like in the scene, while I was walking to check-in counter in the Lyon airport, I still remember the slow-mo feeling, as if everyone surrounding me just moved a bit slower. Stepping into the unknown, heart pounding, my backpack was light, so as my body. My pace was steadfast and steady. Open-minded, razor-sharp focus, driven purely by emotions - adventurous, nervous, angsty, and a bit suicidal. That point I was ready to accept anything the journey would throw at me, ready to look for something beautiful, something more exciting, yes I admit, something more dangerous. Everything was so surreal, so like a movie, that I could almost hear a soundtrack, an epic theme song, playing in the background. I remember that the day before departure on the Christmas' Eve, when my friend asked me what was my plan there, I think I said something along the line of: "I don't have a plan." That is probably the most badass line I've ever said in my life.
Never refuse an invitation, never resist the unfamiliar, never fail to be polite, never outstay the welcome. Just keep your mind open and suck in the experience. And if it hurts, you know what, it's probably worth it.
Richard, The Beach
Now that I'm older. My heart colder. Even a bit grumpier. Am I still capable to do something similar? Am I still as open-minded?
