Where Dreams Are Born

Day after Christmas ponder... Sometimes my reflections come from the most unusual corners. I will preface this by saying the holiday season was a bit different for the two of us. Last minute plans spent with a few close friends on Christmas Eve were supposed to lead way to a snowbound day of solitude. That began to change shape when we both got mild cases of the flu and most hours were spent resting in bed instead. Yes there were presents and a walk to see Rob down the street, but dashed were the hopes of an all-you-can-eat Asian buffet among other new traditions.


So it was with quiet irony that my final thoughts of the day were spent upstairs watching a film on the couch. I happened to pull Steven Spielberg's Artificial Intelligence out of the pile. I remember buying it well over a year back because I "enjoyed" it on first viewing. But as it played out, it took on new resonance and here is what I gathered from it in a holiday message:

It is a sci-fi futuristic fantasy about a cyber boy that comes into a broken family with the intention of seeing if a manufactured being is capable of healing with true love and emotion. Over the course of the story, of course it is the humans that fail at finding that true connection and the boy becomes an outcast of society embarking on a quest to find that affirmation. Two hours later, the human race is extinct and the boy-machine is discovered at the bottom of the ocean 2000 years later by aliens. His one lasting impression after all that time is the story of Pinnochio, which was imprinted on him at creation and the desire to become a real human with the help of the blue fairy. But the final moment of the film (excuse spoilers!) is about capturing the perfect moment of peace laying at ease with his mother as the moment fades from existence into eternity. He is left finally drifting off to eternal sleep - All is calm. 

Sort of deep - of course being Spielberg - but I reflected on how Holidays can set us up for defeat as we strive to recreate those perfect memories from our past or childhood and cling to them one final time. That can be the birth of a Christ child, a special gift under a tree or a family time capsule forever sealed in a black and white photo. And often amidst all the stress or chaos of the journey, we long for only a simple validation to give us that holiday peace. This is a bit rambling, but if you followed it through, take respite in that one perfect memory you harbor and use that as light to lead you into the New Year.

The film closes with one of the most beautiful and haunting pieces of music by the incomparable John Williams. Here it is: Where Dreams Are Born
Barbara Bonney - Where Dreams Are Born