Terminal Velocity

Buckle up kiddies, this is my deep-sounding, pompously introspective blog entry linking something innocuous to the existential. Ah who am I kidding, I'm just desperate for attention.

So anyhoo, I was watching The Terminal last night with my court-friend(Lexi) and my hetero-lifemate Dugan. If you are unfamiliar with the story, it revolves around a former-Soviet republic citizen who travels to the US to have sex with Catherine Zeta-Jones. No, wait. It had something to do with a coffee can. Regardless of why, this poor guy arrives at this huge international airport in NYC only to find that while he was in the air, his country had started a civil war. So with rebels holding the capitol and all sorts of beurocratic nonsense ensueing, the main character is stuck in limbo: unable to enter the US proper because his passport has been revoked due to diplomatic difficulties with Krznolbayina(or whatever fake Balkan country he was from), but unable to leave because the borders to said country were sealed. Add in a mean-spirited Stanley Tucci as the INS/Homeland Security czar for the airport, and all sorts of hilarious cultural faux-pas, and you have a heartworming drama of the triumph of the human spirit.

But the real reason I was interested in it at all was that I started to understand how he felt. Stranded in this airport terminal, unable to speak more than a few words of English, he strugles to find a way to thrive. By buying the Krznolbayinian and English versions of a travel guide, he learns to speak more of the language. He finds an abandoned corner of the terminal that is under construction(haha) and makes it his home, even going so far as to take apart a couple of benches to fashion into a bed. He makes friends with several airport workers, and even finds gainful employment working with the construction crew. The whole while he tries to keep his spirits up stay alive while he waits for the situation to stabilize and allow him into NYC, or to go home.

See any parallels to my life? Well yes, I have sustained myself for more than a week on saltine crackers and mustard. And yes, I did use an airport sink to bathe myself on more than one occasion. But what I mean to point out is the similarity between Tom Hanks' character and your average Christian.

1. We are definately on a journey, having left our former country/life behind when we came to NYC/Christ. That former life is no longer available to us, as sin/the ruling party has been defeated. Now we can no longer fall back on the ways/diplomatic corps of our old life.

2. Not only that, but the glorious thing that we await is within sight, and we hear all about it, but we can't leave through the doors that are within plain sight. We have to settle with a life that is better than where we came from, but still full of the discomfort and troubles of this world. And like Tom Hanks' character, the only way we can ever start living is to interact and effect the lives of those around us. Because even though we are stuck here, in limbo, those people who are passing through our area of influence can be a part of our lives. And further, it is through keeping in mind our final destination and goal, but not being so obsessed with getting through those big exit doors and what is behind them that we miss out on the reason why we started the journey in the first place.

Not bad for someone with only community college level philosophy classes.